Fish Out Of Water
by The Zodiac Princess
Summary: A bizarre cataclysm on the set sends actors Hugh and Jennifer into the world of House. And House & Cameron are brought to our world. Can these duos learn to survive or will they be so caught up in the drama that they miss their only chance to return home?
1. Before We Were Doctors

Wha-what's this? Is The Zodiac Princess actually coming out with a NEW story? Bah-humbug, you say. Well, if you can read the text of which I am typing, then yeah-I'm writing a new story. I should probably finish my others first. . . Well, whatever. I'm more into writing this one anyway. I've had this idea in my head for a while, and I hope it turns out as zealous as I plan on it to be. I promise you that this isn't going to be a quick dialog-only story. There's actually going to be a real plot and emotions. But you be the judge, 'kay? 'Kay. 

Title: Fish Out Of Water

By: The Zodiac Princess (Muah! Points to myself)

Rating: You have to be at least this height (My shoulders) to ride.

Genre: Humor/Romance/Adventure-the essentials.

Couplet(s): Straight up Hameron & Wuddy. Everyone needs a little love.

Archives: A bizarre cataclysm on the set sends actors Hugh and Jennifer into the world of House. In exchange, Dr. House & Dr. Cameron are accidentally brought to our world. Can the duos learn to survive and adapt, or will they be so caught up in the drama that they miss their only chance to return home? RnR, no flames plz.

Disclaimer: If I told you I owned them, would it keep the readers reading? Aw well, too bad I don't own them then. Although I'd love to get some action figures. Maybe one with a detachable cane for House, detachable clothes for Cuddy…Detachable hair for…mumbles off

(One final note; this story consists of producing characters, so it'd be best if you know who some of them are. Wiki is a good start)

Follow me to a world where the twists of fate may actually be a good thing…

Chapter One:

It had taken David Shore nearly 25 years or so to compile a sitcom where the good guy wasn't actually a good guy, but rather one who showed such animosity his life, his work and those around him. It was, at first, risky; everyone loves the main character-that is, if the intended purpose is to indeed like him. But he was realistic. He knew that not every soldier was good-spirited and protagonistic. If we were all of the above, then we would not need for such comedic and dramatic hospital programming. We would grow tired of seeing 'ourselves' save another and thus, go out to complete the similar deeds of the protagonist. His work on _NYPD Blue_ was but a mere touchstone into the 'Don Quixote' fantasy we all have been dreaming. Needless to say, he despised it.

It takes originality with a bit of creativity to make it in the media industry. Don't rely on this journalist; see for yourself. Within the past 30 years, we have made similar shows with similar dialogs repetitively. Lawyer shows, such as _The Practice & Boston Legal _convey a similar message but with different characters. Though the plots may be somewhat diversified, we still rely on these similar shows for our amusement. And it works for the American people. Why? We lack much praise and confidence in the innovative and distinct sitcoms, for we fear that the idea of being that of creativity and, well…different…is like a death sentence on our heads. We rely on what we have seen to be a success in order to teach us what WILL be successful. Television networks use this method of apprehensive behavior to justify their ratings (or lack thereof sometimes). An example would be the television show _Dancing With the Stars. _When ABC debuted the show to the American public, many of us were drawn in to its variety of genres; the humor, the adventure, the drama and so on. Not long after did FOX reveal its newest show _Skating With Celebrities. _Same concepts, but this time, the celebrities were forced to risk every tooth and nail in attempt to bring in ratings. The fight for the top became obvious, and the idea came to be that the only way to succeed is to steal what's theirs and make it your own.

But Shore never saw television that way. He hated this concept, this idea, this lifestyle. Throughout his whole producing career, directors, other producers, screen writers and everyone else told him that the way to meet fame is to snatch it out from another. When he would ask why, production crews would shrug slightly and reply 'That's how it works.' It didn't work like that-not to David. Perhaps he was naïve at the time, but he kept the firm belief of 'One's own creation is one's own creation'. Nothing more, nothing less. All he wanted out of this job, or rather this life, was to make a television show that would define him. His dream was to be known as a creative and ingenious producer who can make audiences burst into laughter one minute, while making them fall to their knees with tears in the next. It was different, it was unique, it was risky. And it's what he truly wanted out of this career.

David thought about that and knew that it would get him into trouble. And it did…

Our loving and caring producer had stayed up well beyond his bedtime, writing a script for the next episode. He sat up in his Egyptian cotton bed, his knees bent forward, holding the blank pieces of paper at an angle. The matching lamp beside him was the only lit object in the room. His reading glasses resting gently on the tip of his nose, as his eyes were narrowed and determined. The pencil in his right hand did more erasing than actual writing. This, to David's distaste, would cause him to grumble during every erase mark he had gestured. His wife, Judy, sitting beside him in somewhat of the same manner. Her legs were stretched out and parallel to one another. Her body snuggled comfortably within the covers, reading the newest of her _Danielle Steele _novels. She remained quiet but attentive to her husband's frustration, every once in a while, looking up from her novel and then returning to it shortly after.

It was late; too late for him and his wife. The weather channel announced windy conditions to begin well into the later hours of the night. Loud cracks of wind in the back round were ignored by David but not by his wife. Judy would look up at the window every once in a while and just watch the neighbor's tree blow from side to side.

It had grown quiet in the bedroom. Both busy with other obligations. That is, until David let out a frustrated rumble, causing his wife to snap out of the story. She looked over at him, quickly erasing one of his many mistakes. Biting her lip, she turned back to her book and attempted to continue. "It's not going so well, huh?"

"No it's not," David grumbled, his eyes focused on the skid-marked paper. He looked up at her, noticing her focus on the novel gripped between her fingers. "Hey…How come you've never showed that much interest in my novels?"

"What novels are those, dear?" She asked, still focused on her book.

"My screen writes."

"Well, when you actually write something down, I'll take a look," She grinned to the 32nd page of her book.

David glared at her, surprised by her smart-ass like sarcasm. Utterly speechless for the first few seconds, listening to his wife softly giggle to herself. "Ouch. That was uncalled for. I'll have you know that I DO have something written down."

"Oh?" Her eyes perked up, almost interested. "Let's have at it, then."

"No. Not yet. I'm still, uh…writing the ending."

"Hmmm…" She smirked, her eyes drifting off to the bedroom door. "I see…so that's what has you so dismantled? The lack of a great ending?"

"Not JUST a great ending," He corrected as he stretched out his legs. "FOX is FINALLY permitting our request to do a Christmas spoof for the holiday season."

"Your request?"

"Well, no. It was Katie's idea for the most part. I didn't necessarily oppose the idea. So they assumed I was a hundred percent for it."

"And you're not?"

"I knew I'd be the one who had the obligation of writing it," He sighed, gesturing to his pad and pencil. "And as you can clearly see…"

She nodded. "That I can. What have you got planned for us viewers?"

He arched a brow. "So now you watch the show? Now you know a thing or two about the plots?"

"Shut up and tell me what you've got planned."

He laughed, remembering how innocent she was when they met. Times have certainly changed from that day to now. And as he looks at her, he can't help but recall.

"Sorry, dear, I'm not at liberty to spill spoilers to a potential viewer." He replied sarcastically, knowing that she's never really sat down and watched it. She began to pout or ask him one of the hundreds of questions she usually does ask him, but he cut her off. "-But, what I will tell you is that the hospital will host a Christmas Party slash ball slash elder prom."

"Ahhh, I see says the blind man," she leaned forward, no longer interested in her book. "Who have you got going with whom?"

David's eyes widen. "Uhh…" Carefully, they drifted back to his grey piece of paper. "…I don't know yet. I guess I haven't thought that far ahead."

He gave her a weak smile to which she couldn't return. She was a quick one, she was. Always determined to get what she wanted when she did without drawing that much attention onto herself. She played innocent, especially with David. Doing so, she picked up her book, now faking an interest in it. She glanced down angelically. A moment of silence had gone by, both returning to their work. Mumbling under her breath, she suggested "Hmm…well…if you're sane, you make Dr. House and Cameron go together. Great chemistry, great romance. Yes-good plan. Glad that's settled."

David paused, hearing every word his wife had said. He raised his head, first looking at the dresser on the opposite side of the room. His mouth was slightly dropped, once again realizing Judy's manipulations were as slick and coy as she was dishing them out. His eyes drifted over to her, his expression exactly as it was. "…What was that?"

"Oh, nothing," She assured him confidently. "I was just giving you some advice. Rational advice, to clarify."

"You were giving me advice?"

"Uh-huh."

It was then that all the pieces of the puzzle fell together. He thought she never watched but she had more secrets than his cast of characters could hold. He knew then why she had said that, why it became so incredibly obvious. He parted his lips to form a wider smile. "Oh my God, Judy…you're a House & Cameron fan, aren't you?"

A smirk came across of lips as her fingers turned the page carefully. "Hmm…Am I? Is that what you call it? Nothing gets by you, Dave."

"But…I thought you never watched it. You told me you've rarely seen the show. You told me you couldn't watch it because of work." He was now extremely confused. He really did want to make these two star crossed characters and he never thought for a second that his wife had been in on it the whole time. Granted, he would've asked for her expertise had he known of her participation. "How long have you been watching?"

"Since the second season," She replied, matter-of-factly. "You know, the Shore name brings a lot of praise to the office. You wouldn't believe how many people came up to be and gave me suggestions to give to you."

"Like what?"

"About how Cuddy is turning into an office slut with her clothes, how Foreman needs to pull the stick out of his ass and so on and so on. But the one suggestion I had gotten the most was how happy they were with the House & Cameron saga. They were amazed that I hadn't watched, and so they sat me down and…birth of a nation right then and there."

"They told you that?"

"Yes. They also want you to 'give the people what they want'," Judy sighed, gesturing quotations with her index and middle fingers. "I guess to them, 'the people' can be represented by all twenty three of my co-workers."

"The women in your office hardly constitute anything which may be even close to representing the public," He told her, nonchalantly.

Judy paused before opening her mouth again. What she felt was a tug-of-war with an idea that had him fighting. She knew his plan, or at least she thought she knew. Though, it was expected to be whoever was to come as one would be more as bonus to the show, rather than a whole plotline. In all honestly, she preferred to actually see the cases rather than camera interaction, but it was indeed, a bonus. "So…Who are you putting together?"

He paused in midair, as if to consider, but not loose his place within his writing. "I'm doing what's in the best interest of the show."

"That doesn't answer my question. Come on, dear, I'm curious. Who are you hoping will be romantically involved within the series?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, it does, Dave. Your opinion matters and your frustration for the lack of an ending doesn't make it less valid."

"Regardless, I can't simply give the minority what the majority desires," He stretched out his legs once more, slightly frustrated, not at her, but more at his lack of decision making. "I have to go with what the people want. Katie might be on the right track and I would hate to lose my viewers because of something idiotic. And if they want what she's pushing fo-"

"-What's Katie pushing for?" Judy cut in curiously.

Cracks of wind snapped the trees which would every so often cause the branches to scrape the glass. The atmosphere was dark and spooky, but neither were intimidated. Or perhaps they were far too busy into their debate to even notice. Judy set down the book on the table beside her bed and turned to David, who remained quiet the entire time. He rubbed his forehead and eyes out of tiredness. "She, uh…she's pushing…for Dr. House & Dr. Cuddy…"

Judy went silent. She didn't know whether to laugh or to keep the confused expression on her face. Her nose scrunched slightly at the thought of them together. Such a reaction would not have been made possible a few years ago. Her eyes stayed on her husband, who curled up his legs once more and continued writing. "Oh…"

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"What do you think?"

She shrugged, her head tilting towards to the scratched bedroom window. "It's not my show."

"I know."

"It's yours."

"I know that too."

"So, it's about what YOU want," His wife reasoned sternly. "It doesn't matter what everyone thinks, Dave. What matters is what makes you comfortable, or what makes it easier for you to write. If you honestly believe that if you did put Dr. Cuddy with Dr. House, and it was the only way to keep viewers, then you are less intelligent than I could ever imagine."

Dave cocked his head at her, leaving both of them chagrinned. "Huh?"

"Dave, have you forgotten what your show's even about? Perhaps that's why you've been having so much troubling writing your script. You forgot what made the show what it is today. The doctors get patients, finds out what the problem is, gives them medicine which ends up making them worse, gives them different medicine, they almost die until the very last scene when Doctor House comes up with the answer and saves the day. For God's sake, Dave, tell Katie to shove it and stop breathing down your neck! She's loved Doctor Cuddy well before you created her. Come on, _Doctor House, _this isn't difficult!"

He laughed, offering his pad and paper. "Alright, _Doctor Cameron, _if you're such a genius, then you can write the script for me."

Instantly, she pushed out her hands in rejection. "No way, Jose. I don't do paperwork, and neither should my character. Which reminds me, why has Cameron been getting the paper load recently?"

"I'm trying to be a realistic as possible in character perspectives."

"Exactly. I never did paperwork for you."

He smirked. "What? You used to do my work for me all the time."

"Yes, work implies 'running your favors, making your coffee, bearing your children, and putting up with you'," Her lips curled into a smile. "Cameron's done most of that when it comes to Doctor House. And I've done all of that when it comes to YOU."

"Hey, when I agreed to base the doctors off of real people, I told you that not everything would transfer over," He leaned in, pointing to the tip of her nose. "Take Doctor Chase, for instance. Jake was absolutely NOT an attractive Aussie with a body that women would scream for."

"I enjoyed it," She bit her lip playfully, remembering their year long relationship before her marriage to Dave.

His eyes slightly narrowed at her response, as if she wanted him to believe that she still acquired feelings for him. "Right…And I don't need to explain why I had put Doctors Cameron & Chase together…ahem…You know, I never told you how I felt when you and Jake left the NYPD Blue set…"

"I think what you told Jake was clear enough…you fired him…"

"Well, I fired him because..." He sighed. Time to man up to his actions of the past. "…Because I was tired of seeing you two together. I figured that if I fired him, I'd…yeah…That didn't work out well…you left too…"

His wife's eyes widen out of surprise. She had assumed his reasons for firing Jake was because they were always bumping heads with the staff. Never in a million years could she have imagined his reasoning for firing Jake was because he was jealous. Her breath was quiet, as was much of the outdoors by this point. Gathering up the remainder of her conscious mind, she spoke much more softly. "Yeah…but we came back…"

"Because you threatened me!" He exclaimed. "You told me that if I didn't hire Jake back, you would leave. And when you ended up leaving, I had to hire him back."

"So…you brought him back not because of your life from before; that his contract wasn't up. But because of me?" Shrill and tender, she could almost have her heart captured all over again by the man from before.

David rolled his eyes, much like the great Doctor House word. Ironically, Dave could say that he invented any of House's looks. "Yeah, yeah…What can I say, I was crazy about you….But I remember during that time, I spent most of my time avoiding work with Will. Damn bookworm, he always turned me in to Andie. I wish I knew that my best friend and boss we're in on all of my mischievous actions. Andie used to yell at me for hiding or avoiding work…but I did ended up spending a lot of time around her when you two were absent."

"And…that's why there's some newfound drama between House and Cuddy…" Judy was starting to get it. Oh, her co-workers would be pleased. Everything he had written was actually emotions or actions that had occurred in his real life-through his perspective. "Wow…and here, I thought you were being original."

"Nope, sorry. The medical portions, yes, but everything else is strictly from my own life. I told you I'm not a romantic, and I stick by that. Go to Will for your romantic needs," He paused, looking up at her seriously. "On second thought, don't do that."

She grinned. "How is Will, anyway? Is he still dating Andie?"

"Last time I checked," He continued writing. "I'm not trying to jinx it, but I think Will's going to make her lucky wife number four."

"Ahhh…just like the real Doctor Wilson," She commented, noticing her husband's movements. "And do you know what Doctor Wilson would tell you right now?"

Dave looked up to the ceiling, as if to contemplate. His lips were pressed firmly against each other. "Hmm…Wilson was too moral for me. Katie always wrote him in. So-"

"-He would tell you to get some sleep. Pronto," Her hands clapped twice in unison.

"Maybe you're right," He reasoned. After all, his spine was in pain, his neck was firm, his eyes had a harder time staying awake and his yawnings became more and more boisterous. He gently set down the pad and now skid-marked paper on the night stand beside him.

"I always am," Judy told him playfully, sliding into the thick Egyptian sheets and turning her back to him. Reaching up, she gently placed her two fingers on the lamp knob and turning it off. She could hear David slipping deeper into the covers, his yawning a clear indication that she was right. "'Night, House."

He reached up and reciprocated the same actions of his wife. Though it's still unsure, but it seemed as though David found it easier to relax in bed, even though Judy was tired and needed her sleep. Turning his back towards her back, he mumbled "G'night, Cameron."

The wind had dulled down, which was unexpected. It had grown silent in the Shore home, and everything was at peace for the first time all night. No stress, no mess. And lying there, both found comfort in their own ideas and dreams.

And as David lied in silence, his sleepy mind taking over his sense of reality, was about to learn a thing or two about what it means to truly create something. His wife had adopted that long ago from their children, but David had never really spiritually connected with the metaphor of creation. The work, the efforts, the procrastination which occurs that shouldn't. He was in trouble. He needed his script by tomorrow and only obtained partial completeness. What could help him now? Himself, and no one else. And he knew that. Silently, he wondered why he couldn't rip off another medical drama, just before drifting into what may have been the best sleep of his career.

Okay, yeah…this is the part where you tell me how much you hate it. But of course, I don't really wanna hear that. So, if you could avoid it, please do so. I promise you that this isn't going to be some quick fic for reading. I want to take this somewhere and have some fun with it. But hey, you're the readers, so let me know if this is worth another chapter.


	2. We Were Actors

...Wow! Look at all my reviews! Clearly, House fans are much kinder when it comes to reviews than that of the other sections. This is the most i've gotten on one chapter, so you can imagine how pleased I am. Therefore, i'll give you another chapter! Why not? It's not like college is doing anything with me. ;) But before we begin, I'm going to do what a lot of writers do and reply to my review-ees. I've got some praises and comments that are worthy of a comment. So, in no random order...

Fishyfin1& Limaccia: Thanks for the praise. Yes, he has a wife and her name really is Judy. I went on Wikipedia to look up all the small facts. A writer's gotta be accurate, no? And don't worry, though this fic is aimed at Hameron, there will be NO Hugh & Jennifer shipping. In House MD, that's okay. In reality, that's just wrong. I'm all for Jesse & Jen as well, so don't you worry.

Lilo, Alterangirl, hameronlover, LittleDragonfly23, jules-m.d, brokendreams77, Tarica, Alisoba & Astairefan: Thanks for reading! I might get a little metaphorical on you in the beginning of each chapter so just hang on for the ride. Much love and hope to hear from you soon.

ColorOfAngels: GASP! Are YOU really reading MY fic and actually enjoying it? To what do I owe the honor? You're such a good writer and i'm so...small. Well, I thank you and I hope I won't let you down! Salutes

So, without further adieu, I present to you our second chapter...

Chapter Two

Pop sensation Christina Aguilera has been wordly recognized for her deep and sultry sense of style, voice and attitude, all throughout the late 20th and early 21st century. Each of her songs messaging a theme or emotion that many of us feel but cannot express. In her song, titled _Genie In A Bottle,_ she expresses the emotion of abandoment, lonliness and insecurity. And all she ever wanted was someone to 'come-come on in, let me out'. We all feel this at one point, and she clearly does a wonderful job expression the 'unspeakable' emotions. When we focus more on this story, her music and the connection between, the thin red line draws closer to her more passionate song, titled _Reflection. _In this song, which was featured in the children's movie _Mulan, _we see that Christina continues to ask herself 'Who is that girl I see?' and 'When will my reflection show who I am inside?' We've all asked those questions within at some points in our lives. Depression is quite common in our world today and it seems like more and more people are turning to the mirror for their answers. And together, we ask in unison 'who is that girl I see? When will my reflection show who I am inside?'

So, let's analyize; when we ask a question such as 'who is that girl I see?', we come up wit the assumption that whoever is asking feels that their true self isn't being represented. It's almost as though we wear a mask & body suit that is not out of our request, but more rather a heriditary obligation. And since society does nothing to ensure our inner beauty maintains as a top priority, we feel emotionally discoursed.

When we ask the question 'when will my reflection show who I am inside?', it's pretty much the same deal. However, there's one smaller detail; this is a question of time. When we ask this, it's much like we are impatient children, asking when we're finally going to the park. But what children lack is a sense of true despair and depression. Children cannot feel this because they've never had the chance to truly feel it. In order to feel, one must be able to comprehend, and to comprehend is to understand the situation completely. Yet, we are more frail because we can.

With these questions combined, the message (in simple terms) is thus; where is the real me and when am I coming back? People who usually ask this sort of question are obviously lost and have no mentor for whom will guide. They search for the answer within themselves, as they seem to believe the idea that if no one will give them a listening ear, it must be themselves who are flawed. This, in the end, makes them more insecure. But alas, there is solution to these questions. And it doesn't take a genius to comprehend them.

So, when you ask, 'Who is that girl (or boy) I see?', know that it's the persona that lives in you. Your personality will shine above everything else, as long as you maintain a steady confidence. The characters or which you play every day, such as the jock, the nerd, the athlete or even the attractive doctor have always existed and will continue to exist until the day you die. It's all a matter of who shows up first and who everyone sees the most. It is he or she that you are, and nothing else.

And when you ask 'when will my reflection show who I am inside?', look within yourself and see the light; you are showing. Everyday you walk amongst society and as long as you greet the world with a smile, you're reflection will mirror your personas. Yes, you will have days where you meet the world with despair. But as long as you can look past your troubles and move on, your reflection shall never cry again...

...Apollo's Lantern, also known as the "sun", rose high above the earth in all glory. It shined brightly over the First Campus Center of Princeton University. The clouds were seperated and the winds were light. Early october; leaves were changing and romance was rising. And the House cast paid no attention to it.

It was not uncommon for the cast to have the obligation of traveling for some additional footage. In many cases, David would force the cast to travel to Princeton University, just so they could film a real shot of the hospital to which the actors claimed they occupied. A few days here or there was nothing. But all was not well in this medical version of Who-ville; they were filming EVERY scene within the hospital grounds. The script which David had worked on called for the scenes to take place there, including this 'ball'. When the cast asked how this could be done, David shrugged and replied 'It pays to be paid'.

So the cast packed their bags, said farewell to the families and were off for two weeks to New Jersey. Each of them, not having seen the script yet, began to wonder what kind of script would consist of two weeks of shooting film at Princeton, rather than their set in Los Angeles. Nothing was adding up to them, and each of them began to question each other's reasoning. Yes, much of their shots were filmed in Jersey. House's office, Cuddy's office, Wilson's office, among other scenes. It was like this hospital was a second him to them. So when they arrived, they were instantly greeted with a small group paparazzi from various New Jersey & New York television stations. For Robert Sean Leonard, this was just another excuse to explore his inner child; by sticking out his tongue and making funny faces at the passing cameras. Hugh Laurie, who walked beside him, elbowed him with a smile and told him to 'act his age'. Walking inside, the cast and crew immediately walked down the small corridor linked to the lobby, and into the second door on their left. The dressing room. Cast members only. Inside, a line of three chairs on each side and enough space to fit them all. Each was assigned to a stool, according to David. Acting was a giving career and the routine that never ended...

Miss Jennifer Morrison could not stop starring at the reflection in front of her. It's not as if she had a choice; the walls were not walls, but mirrors that reflected every movement for the watching. She sat in the first chair to the left, walking into the room. Always have, always will. Her eyes drained out the yellow-peach color to the room which was once a preperation room for surgeries. The white labcoat over her vintage blouse and dressy pants seem to focus her in more. And her hair...oh, why did David make her dye it brown? And why did he make her put it up? She was taunted with these questions to which had no answers for her. Her answers should've been elsewhere. Though in fact, she was supposed to be reading the 'telephone book-sized' script which was gripped tightly into her hands. And she had...well, if you consider skimming a technical form of reading, then yes. Her eyes didn't move or blink for that matter. She merely focused on herself, and her image.

It had grown silent in the room. Each of the members reading their scripts, flipping pages and moaning as if there were no end. the cast dressed in either white labcoats, or for Hugh, a modern day t-shirt & jeans only found on the backs of teenagers or extremely hip adults. Their backs were towards each other sternly. There, her mind began to ask different questions. Questions that she had been asking since she was a child. Foolish ones, perhaps, but quizzical. And her mind was set on knowing.

"Do you ever think there's a real Doctor Cameron?" She asked deeply.

"Oh thank God!" exclaimed Omar Epps, who was seated directly behind her, leaning back in his chair with his legs resting on the counter. With one swift move, he dropped the script on the counter beside his feet, creating a large 'boom' like sound that echoed. Lisa Edelstein, who was seating to his left, jumped slightly at his movements. He sighed happily. "I'm glad one of us spoke up. I didn't want to read that damn thing until someone finally brought up a conversation. I'm tellin' ya, you can cut the air with how much tension's in here."

"Funny. It's never like this when you're here," remarked Jesse Spencer, who turned his head back to Omar. Jesse sat cady-cornered from him, which was perfect for reflection faces. He smirked at his fellow actor boyishly.

Omar turned his head and glared. Lisa covered her mouth but a soft giggle could still be heard. He turned to his left and looked at her, almost amazed. "Oh, you find this is funny?" 

"Well...yeah," Lisa shrugged with a smile. "I won't lie to ya there."

Omar tried to maintain his annoyance with Jesse, but as others began to laugh at Lisa's remark, he began to ease up. "Okay, maybe it was a little funny. But I know it's because i'm black."

"What?!" exclained Robert, who cocked his head up instantly. He leaned over, looking past Lisa to Omar, his script well in hand. "You're not black. I'm black."

"Robert, for God's sake," laughed the very boisterous Hugh, located behind Robert. It seemed as though he had remarked that way towards Robert for quite some time. He flipped his chair halfway to meet somewhat of a figure and replied in this thick accent. "You're least likely out of everyone to turn black. And i'm bloody British!"

"Boy, you know where to aim those arrows," Robert replied sadly, his hands over his heart. "That hurts me, brother."

"See, this is why you wouldn't make a good black guy," Omar cleared his throat. "It's not 'brother'. Pfft! It's 'Brotha'...it ends with an 'uh' sound."

Robert blinked, confused. "Bro...tha...but wait, that's not even correct English."

Omar & Hugh groaned out of another failed attempt. It wasn't Robert's fault he wasn't sociological litterate. But that seemed to be his flaw. He could tell you every character out of Othelo, but couldn't say two words in ebonics.

"I rest my case," Hugh sighed, turning his chair back to face the mirror and continued his reading. Lisa and Robert followed this example.

"So, uh...what were you saying, Jen?" Omar asked, looking at her through the reflections of the mirror. Was he so desperate to get out of reading his telephone book sized script? Indeed. Jennifer's image could see Omar from behind her and she made eye contact with his reflection.

"Hmm?" Jennifer asked much like she was out of it.

"You said something before. Somethin' I didn't hear," Omar corrected. "What was it?"

"Oh, I was just wondering aloud..." She sighed almost similar to Cameron's sigh.

"Of?" Now asked a very interested Jesse. His motives were perhaps the same as Omar's; being that neither wanted to read another page of a dialog which did not include them.

"I was just wondering...if there was the real Doctor Cameron...somewhere..."

"I'm sure there is...it's a big world, and Cameron is a popular last name-"

"-Not A Doctor Cameron," She corrected, turning her head to him. "THE Doctor Cameron."

Robert looked up at the woman on the other side of the room. "You mean...like a parallel universe?"

"Something like that, yes."

"Oh, that's just preposterous," the actor playing Dr. House explained for the room to hear. "Those are ideas we believed as children. We're adults now, Jennifer. You have to be more realistic."

"That's not true through," Jennifer reasoned, looking through the mirror to Hugh's reflection. "I...I was reading this magazine and it said that more than 15 percent of adults from 18 to 55 actually believe in another universe."

"Then the 15 percent of the population ought to read more novels and less coloring books," Hugh smirked.

"And what about the four-thirds of the population who don't know fractions?" asked Lisa jokingly. "Should they have to repeat the 5th grade?"

Robert and Omar laughed amongst themselves. Though joking, Hugh knew that Lisa did bring up a rather good point. Should those who believe actually be punished for their beliefs? Yes, it has gone on for centuries but should something so small and faithful really be a national issue?

"I'm just saying that maybe a little less science ficton would keep us from wasting our time on redundant theories," Hugh reasoned. "My father was a doctor, and if he was one of those men who would go to the ends of the earth if you asked him a question he did not know. I know for a fact that he would not be as prosperous today had he been asked a question regarding anything to do with a parallel universe."

"Well, okay," Jennifer shrugged, setting down her script. "But a parallel universe doesn't even have to be another dimension. In fact, most of the people who said they did believe actually believe that the parallel world is inside ourselves."

Everyone turned and looked at her, including Omar, who replied, "Uh-huh. Keep going."

"Well, I don't know much. I don't even really think I believe in it. But from what I've read, people believe that it's our own characters from within that are the keys to our world. I'm trying to remember...urm...oh! They say that-"

"-Before you continue, sweetcheeks, can we clarify who 'they' are?" Hugh cut in, turning his attention to her.

"They, as in...I would imagine to be believers, scientists-"

"-The unemployed," Jesse added with a grin. Hugh began to laugh, but Jennifer didn't find it quite so funny. She gave her boyfriend the most evil of glares. His expression instantly changed to something more fear sticken. Gulping softly, he bit his lip and shuned himself in silence. The mirror walls were no secret keeper, since Hugh, Robert, Lisa and Omar watched his posture and expression, and they bursted out laughing.

"ANYWAYS," Shouted a very annoyed Jennifer, whose only crime was defending a point she wasn't so sure about. This writer would probably add her dates with Jesse as a crime, but he is rather irresistable. "Before I was so RUDELY interupted..." Her head jolted towards Jesse, causing him to flinch. "Ahem...The idea behind parellel dimensions is that we are all made up of characters which we potray to the world. Each of our characters share similar interests with ourselves. You know, people believe that our emotions are clear indicators of our so-called transitions for character to character. And they claim that Bi-polar disorder is the cause of several personalities wanting attention."

"And...you got all this from a magazine? What the hell kind of magazine was it?" The token black guy asked amused.

Jennifer shrugged. "I dunno. It was one of those waiting room magazines I read while I was waiting for my flu shot."

"So, humor me," Hugh folded his arms with a charming smile. "How do I go about meeting my...'personalities'? I want to talk to my sexy personality and my charming personality and see if we can come up with some sort of tag-team play."

"Are you serious?"

"Is the Pope Catholic, sweetcheeks?"

Jennifer rolled her eyes, bobbing her head, as if to come up with an answer. "Well...I think...no."

"Why not?"

"There's rules, Hou-" Jennifer slipped of tongue, almost falling into her acting mind. A reflex that can never be forgotten. "-Hugh. There's rules."

"There's rules on meeting your personalities?" Robert squinted. "Alright, i'll say a very House-ish thing here, but what kind of rules? Bringing yourself back before midnight?"

"No, rules as in 'rules of human science and physics,'" Jennifer sighed. "Okay, you guys we're right. This is just a stupid conversation. And I don't like defending it. It's just a stupid idea. Forget it."

"No, no, no," Each of them assured her confidently, almost as if they wanted to hear it. But also, not wanting to return back to their reading.

"Continue. This is really interesting," Lisa nodded. "Though i'm pretty sure it is just made-up. It really is a something to think about."

"Keep going," Hugh agreed. "You're a wonderful storyteller, sweetcheeks."

"Stop calling me sweetcheeks!" Jennifer grumbled loudly.

"He calls everyone that. Even me!" Robert remarked outlandishly.

"Fine! I'll tell you," Jennifer took a deep breath. "The rules are supposed to be reasons why this WON'T work. I took physics in high school and I remember my teacher telling me that two bodies of matter cannot occupy the same space at the same time. And that was one of the rules. So...I don't think you can meet your personality, but others can."

"Well that's not fair," Hugh whined, mimicing House. "Jesse wouldn't use my charming personality as effectively as I would."

"Regardless, I think that's just how it works," she informed. "Also, you and your personality would have to be doing the exact same motion at the exact same time for you two to switch universes."

"Which means what?" Jesse asked as he narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Basically, if you were...I don't know-kissing a girl, and your personality, in their world, was also kissing the same girl, or one of HER personalities, then you would...switch...or something...Everyone we pretend to be actually exists, but since we never cross paths or conform to the same acts, we never open the door. "

"So...if this idea WAS real, then that would imply that travel is possible, but only provides a small window of travel," Omar reasoned, letting other listen in.

Jennifer nodded. "Yeah, exactly."

"So then, how do you get back?" questioned a very content Hugh. He gently rested his legs agianst the counter, much like he has done in a variety of House episodes. For 48 years old, he was in tip-top shape.

"It's probably the same way you get in. Same moment, same movement."

"So wait. If you get in, there's a big chance you might not get out?" Robert slightly gasped at his own question. Perhaps if he had actually believed in such non-sense, maybe then he would've perked at the edge of his seat. "That sucks."

"Okay, i've got a good question-" Omar announced.

"-Remember, you guys, I don't actually believe in thi-"

"-So, do you actually change bodies with your personality? Or is it all of you that travels to this God-forsaken world of imagination?"

"Uhh...I would assume that all of you goes...but then again, I'm NOT an exper-"

"-My turn. I got one now," Lisa informed, almost putting her hand over Omar's mouth. Lisa looked through the reflection to Jennifer, who could easily have perfered reading than this line of questioning. "Can you take anything with you? Say, you're reading the same exact thing as your character, will the book travel with you?"

Jennifer's expression had changed. That's something that had been done a lot lately. She rose to feet, as if to give a speech. "Uhh...i'm not sure. Maybe. If it's part of the...transformation, I guess."

"Anything else that pertains to the rules?" asked the wannabe Dr. Cuddy.

"Urm...yes. The personality must never know they aren't where they think they are. And if they know you to be a personality they understand, or at least you look like that persona, you must act like that persona."

"So-"

"Ugh, let me give an example," Jennifer interupted annoyed. "If...let's say, for some reason, Doctor Cuddy actually made it to our world. She could look at you and think of you as her colleagues. She would respond like Dr. Cuddy, walk like Cuddy, and so on. You couldn't tell her that you weren't Doctor Chase or House or anyone. So, you would have to 'play the part' of the personality she recognizes with you until Lisa would return."

Jesse laughed. "Well, now this is really getting stupid. Why couldn't you tell them? Will it blow up the sun?"

"I don't know! Stop asking me these questions," She glared, grabbing her telephone book of a script from off the counter. "The article said that telling them the truth is a definante no-no. Okay, now I'VE got a question, since i'm done handling yours...can we go out and practice our lines?"

It had grown silent again. Not like the silence they had endured during their reading, but rather a long hesitation. They were having so much fun debating the tedious Jennifer over something all of them had concluded equally. It just went to show how much Jennifer would rather do her job, and you know...act, than have a debate with her fellow actors.

Each of them looked at one another hesistantly. David hadn't called them in for practice, so it wasn't necessry. And most of them hadn't gone through the script as quickly as our Lady Cameron.

But Hugh sighed, knowing of his acting obligations. He sat up quickly, jumping to his feet, and making his way towards Jennifer. He slid past through the small gap between Jesse & Lisa's chairs. "Alright, let's go."

"Where ya goin'?" asked Omar.

Hugh flipped around and turned to him with a smirk, almost cooly. No cane within his grip, he slid on the soles of his feet. "To practice. That's why we make the big bucks." Omar narrowed his eyes slightly. He smiled kindly and nodded.

Hugh walked past Jennifer and opened the door, holding it for her. Definantly NOT a Dr. House move. "Coming, sweetcheeks?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm coming," Jennifer rolled her eyes, still looking at the group. "Whenever you wanna practice, Hugh and I will be...somewhere...yeah, just give a holler."

"Have fun," Jesse replied, focused in on his script in hand. If he had known what was to come of his lack of eye contact, perhaps we would've wished more than just 'have fun'. But he was right, in a sense; she would.

Jennifer turned back and walked out of the door, turning to her fellow actor. "Thanks." Hugh nodded and followed shortly after.

GREGHOUSEALLISONCAMERONROBERTCHASELISACUDDYJAMESWILSONERICFORMANTHEIRREPLACEABLECAST

Allison Cameron had made some fairly risky decisions in her life. She was beautiful and went to Medical school. She married young, and lost quickly. She was determined and was a leader. She was a woman and was shunned instantly. In Medical school, she had all male professors. And each one would ignore her, even when she was absolutely right. It was almost as if they wanted her to fail. But that never stopped her. In fact, it made her more determined to graduate with high honors and prepared her for the real world that was ahead of her.

And when she arrived at the PPTH, she had no idea how chaotic Doctor House would make her life. In the beginning, she hated everything about him. She hated his sarcasm, she hated his lack of respect, she even hated his walk, with or without a cane. But it changed...as time progressed, she became more in tune with him, physically and mentally. She began to tollerate his scarasm, understand his lack of respect, and love when he walked into a room. It was true; she loved him in more ways than one. Her first husband & Chase couldn't compare. Though damaged, she knows that if she were to fix House, she would nod proudly and love him even more.

She was connected to him. She always knew when something was wrong deep down within her soul. It was an odd feeling; a cold drop would slide down her back and her heart would drop into her stomach. This feeling could have no same, since it seemed like Dr. Cameron was the only one in the world who could feel it.

That feeling came to her during her last hour of clinic duty. A cheerful fellow, her last patient. Came in complaining about abdominal pain and fevers. She treated him instantly, and sent him on his way. But then...it came back. She knew there was something terribly wrong and it involved the man she should never have loved. Her feet gently tapped against the granite floors impatiently, hesitating on whether or not she go and see him. Cameron rested one hand on the patient's chair and the other of her hip. Biting her lip, she began to race back and forth. If she did go see him, and nothing was wrong, would he mock her. If she did go see him and something was wrong, would he ask for her help? These questions jumped around in her head much like a child in a bouncy house. The ball was in her count, but would she hit it?

"Ugh...alright...one last time..." She muttered to herself, pulling the door with all her might and swinging it behind her. Her heels clicked on the floor below here rapidly as she made her way to House's office.

GREGHOUSEALLISONCAMERONROBERTCHASELISACUDDYJAMESWILSONERICFORMANTHEIRREPLACEABLECAST

"So, do we have a scene together?" Hugh asked, walking to the left of Jennifer. Several nurses in scrubs passed them, nodding and smiling at their presence. Since they were in a real hospital, actual doctors and nurses would be a back round bonus. Both walked in similar rythms, making their way to 'House's office'.

"You didn't read much of this thing, did you?" Questioned Jennifer with her script in hand, reading as she walked. What a multi-tasker.

"Not really," He told her honestly. "I found it to be despicable if I do say so myself."

"Well, like you told Omar, this is why we make the big bucks."

"Fair enough. So do we have a scene?"

"Uhh...yes. Page 28, second para-"

"-I didn't bring my script."

She looked up, and then back down. "Oh...It's okay. Just use mine. Both say the same damn thing. Here, i'll read it to you; Scene cuts to Dr. House alone in his office. Cameron enters and sees him putting a knife into an electrical sock-"

"-Oh bloody hell, is Shore running a little low on ideas?" Hugh sighed, stopping before the glass door of his character's name. He opened the door and allowed Jennifer to walk in and followed her in. "Is he going to use the same plot redundantly? Doesn't he know how bad this will be for ratings?"

"He might be doing it for spoof purposes," She reasoned. "That's the only idea I can think of." Jennifer set down the heavy script on the corner of 'House's desk'. It fell back towards the coverpage, and Jennifer flipped it until she got to page she needed.

"Okay, so i'm going to try and bloody kill myself again," Hugh rolled his eyes. "What's my line?"

"Uhh...actually, you don't have one."

"What? But...i'm the star."

Jennifer turned around to find him grinning. She narrowed her eyes, knowing what Hugh knew; much of Hugh's participation in the shows were non-verbal communication. She looked back. "You're cute. Look, this is what David wrote; Dr. House is sitting on the floor with his cane to his side, and a letter opener in hand. He prepares to shock himself, but before Dr. House is able to electrify himself, Dr. Cameron enters and attempts to stops him. Dr. Cameron; House! What are you doing..."

"I see...simple scene..."

"Yep...I've got only one line...and it says that we do get electrified, but i'm supposed to pull you away before we go unconcious. I ask you what your problem is, et centra..." She quickly closed the book, picking it up and placing it in the nook on her arms. She looked so much like a High school student forced to carry her heavy material. "Okay...sit down on the floor, I guess."

"Not before I grab my..." Hugh took a few steps closer to her, standing at her side. He reached over and took a golden letter opener that was mostly used as a pop. he waved it in front of Jen's face, as she attempted to read. "...special utensil."

"Urm...so, i'm supposed to come in right before you stick that thing in. I say 'House! What are you doing?!' You look up at me, and do it anyway. I run towards you, you stick it in and I pull you away. Make sense?"

Hugh flopped down on the grade childishly. He looked up at her smiling innocently. "Sounds naughty. I don't think my wife would approv-"

She looked at him with sickened look. "-You're worse than House, i'm telling ya. Now come on, sit."

"I am."

"Do you honestly seeing Doctor house as a Indian Style sitter?"

"Good point," Hugh began to kneel. "Better?"

"Much, thanks," She nodded turning and walking towards the door. With her back to him and her script still in the nook of her arm, she called to him. "Tap your foot when you're in position and i'll walk in. Sound good?"

"Sounds great," He told her before she walked out completely and past the window walls out of sight. He turned back to the socket, aiming the letter opener right at it. He was in position. With his boisterous british accent. "Alright; House MD Christmas Spoof Take one...and action!"

GREGHOUSEALLISONCAMERONROBERTCHASELISACUDDYJAMESWILSONERICFORMANTHEIRREPLACEABLECAST

Doctor Cameron's heartbeat racing with every passing step. She wasn't exactly sure what she would walk into. God only knows. Her arms swung from side to side impatiently. Her lips slightly bitten off from the anticipation. She had passed several other doctors and paid no attention to them. She rounded the corner coming up on House's office.

When she first looked inside, she didn't see him, and that's when she stopped moving. He wasn't sitting in his chair, tossing a ball up in the air or playing his gameboy. Ever so slowly, she saw him...on the floor...on his knees. Never had she seen him falling onto them, what with his limp and all. But he didn't even notice her. For he was eye to eye with his electrical socket...and his letter opener at hand.

Cameron leaned back slightly at the sight before her. Her heart was right; this was wrong. And without hesitation, she stormed in "House! What are you doing?!"

He looked up at her, and within himself, he was glad to see her. But this was something we wanted and needed to do. As she raced towards him, he took a quiet breath and shoved the opener into the socket.

GREGHOUSEALLISONCAMERONROBERTCHASELISACUDDYJAMESWILSONERICFORMANTHEIRREPLACEABLECAST

Hugh tapped his foot loudly, to which Jennifer counted. 7 seconds after action, she had noted. She opened the glass door to find Hugh in the spot she had expected him. Her face slightly turned pale. "House! What are you doing?"

Hugh looked up at her, and began to calculate how many seconds it took for her to race to him. He looked away, quite 'House-like'. He took a deep breath and shoved it into the socket.

At that moment in time, a small spark could be heard only by them. The socket began to shake as if it were in an earthquake. The only object to shake that wildly. Jennifer grabbed his shoulder, but froze instantly.

'Huh?' Hugh asked himself.

Both watching this socket attentively, they couldn't stop staring. Had they noticed time had stopped in their favor, they could've saved what was next.

The socket stopped shaking. Small holes of the socket remained, which then began to glow colors of light blue and white. It began to cover the socket, swirls of white mixing with the blue. It was bright, and it blinded them, yet, they couldn't stop staring. Both Hugh and Jennifer's heart had stopped. Neither could breathe or speak or comprehend the sight they were bestoyed upon. Hugh had flashes of a Twilight Zone episode he had watched when he was a boy. A similar image flashed across his mind and he worried him more than any fear he had endured in his life.

This light began to glow lighter and brighter. It sucked them in mentally into worlds they had never imaged. Images of fantasy could be seen from this glow. They were frightened but neither moved. As the lights grew in strength, the light began to make an eerie sound no man could ever dipict. Their ears couldn't stand the noise, but listened. And when it stopped, it was then that the socket exploded, causing them to fall back. They felt like their faces were on fire, their bodies on fire. Their eyes rolled into the back of their heads, and their last memory of their home consisted an explosion that could only be described as a bomb to the face. Neither remembered if they even fell to the ground or even touched it with their body. Both Hugh and Jennifer fell unconcious to the explosion and the shock of such unbelievably amazing sight from their outlet. Their last thoughts were of wondering if the rest of the cast members would walk in and see how chaotic their small discovery was, how much trouble they might actually be and if this would delay production. But what was to occur next would worry them to the point where they would be wishing that they just stayed with the rest of the cast.

Yep, that's it...sorry for such a long chapter. I figure that since I have a huge German oral exam coming up within the next few weeks, this might keep you busy. This is supposed to be that chapter every writer has that supposed to suck you in and have you keep on reading. How's that goin' for ya? Please let me know. And if you like it, you might find another chapter under your Christmas Tree. Happy readings!


	3. The Other Side Of Me

I've gotta say, i'm EXTREMELY pleased with how well this story is doing. Sure, it's not as popular as all the other stories. But I don't care; it just means I get to pay extra attention to my continued readers and favorer...ers. Thank you all again for your interest! I think i'm going to take a break from my "Mundliche Prufung" (German for 'Oral Test') and reward my readers with a little somethin'-somethin'. This might be a little shorter than the last chapter. I've decided to cut some of it into smaller chapters, so let's see how it goes. I'm kind of hoping to actually finish this one, as opposed to my last few fics. XD One last note; I never use God'

s name in vain in any of my stories. (well, I try not to at least) So, just assume that whoever is saying it is actually saying the vain part. I just won't write it, 'kay? Okay, time for a little Writer to Reader comuni-kay. In no order...

Tarica: Yeah, i'm a big meanie. And you're correct; it is an SNL reference. I'm also a huge SNL fan and when I saw him hosting, I just HAD to watch. I seemed to recall him calling the audience that, and I figured that I should just make it more realistic and maybe have him call everyone that. Hope to hear from you soon! -

Chouse: Sounds to me like someone's a little biased. lol. Well, I went with the feminant perspective of romantic interest. Though House & Chase sounds kind of interesting. And as for her hair, there's a reason why I made it his decision. It's at the very end, I promise. There will be little things like that throughout the story for a reason, and you'll know soon enough.

FryandLaurieFan, redxredxrose, socrgrl14, hameronlover, geminiginny & Bewitched-by-you182: Thank you! I hope you continue reading. Hope to hear from you soon.

TweesterMD: Aww, it's alright, and thank you. I'm Italian too. Well, an Italian-American to be exact. As I always try to say, "Gli Italiani Lo Fanno Meglio"...I hope that's right. Sorry if it doesn't mean what I think it's supposed to mean. I'm American. XD

Astairefan: Much thanks, my fine reader. I wasn't sure if I should put that little convo of alternate worlds prior, but as I thought it over, I found it would be beneficial to the reader, and the dialog of the characters. And it sounds like it helped you, so i'm pleased.

LittleDragonfly23: Thanks for the blessings. Ich werde Sie nicht versagen! (I will not fail you)

Alright, with that out of the way, i'm sure you want you're 3rd chapter. Maybe I should come back later-oh, what the hell, here it is...

Chapter three:

Many people have believed since the dawn of time that if an afterlife "were to" or "does" exist, it can be found only in the clear night sky, when all the stars are brightly colored in several shades of light. It can only be seen with the moon is full and both Mars & Venus have come out for our enjoyment. And when we raise our hands to the sky, we can feel just a little taste of paradise can be. If we close our eyes and listen close to the still of the night, it's almost as if we have placed ourselves in the fantasy of this afterlife, only to escape when our eyelids have been re-opened. This sense of 'heaven' which is provided by a god or force or whatever is natural to believe in, is usually a gift we earn for our troubles and sacrifices we make here on Earth. To truly earn a spot in such an afterlife, one must prove himself worthy here...or so we believe.

But what we fail to see is heaven itself. Yes, we have heard many stories regarding it's appearence; it ranges from ghostly delights to puffy clouds in the sky. There has been reported cases of indivisuals of those who have seen it, or have felt it. A near death experience is perhaps the only way these souls could've ever known of this holy land, or so they say. They have claimed this heaven to be the most peaceful thing to have ever been developed. The sun is always bright, the air is always crisp, the sky is always its bluest. Some claim that the touch of heaven is much like the first romantic kiss from the love of their life, or as if they have grown wings and flown away. However, each person has proclaimed a different version of heaven. Their heaven. Each religion, though different in passing, has concluded the same emotional freedom one would express only in the afterlife. One claims heaven to be a sandy beach with everlasting sunsets. Another has claimed heaven to be a picnic atop a rolling hillside. Someone else even claimed heaven to be in front row at a _Rolling Stones _concert, and you're the one they take onto the stage. Whatever the definition of heaven may be, one this is for certain; the emotion one embraces will never change.

But the fact remains that most of the population have never been put in a postion where they have seen it. This causes doubt to many Athiests & Agnostics because they feel that that cannot know reality unless it is realistically seen. And there's nothing wrong with this act of reasoning. Many firm Christians apply this rule to everyday life. Yet, what we have is a lack of faith among man. To believe that there is something above us is a much stronger than any man could possibly create. Faith is a force to be reckoned with, and no man could create a bomb or device that could add up to it's power.

It's hard to pinpoint where each of our heavens are. Each of us share different visions of it. Some would rather find it in the clouds than to find it anywhere else, as if to symbolize it's holy nature. Others would rather know right here and now, so they can either prepare or depart to it in advance. Others...simply have no heaven. Their death is heaven; their final rest and relaxation. But as the world looks for this mystical holyland that we may live within the afterlife, we neglect the most important factor; the heaven within ourselves. Each of us share a piece of heaven within our hearts and we share it with each other in every smile, wink and loyal deed. Since the ideas of heaven have been diversified, we give off a little bit of it in every thing we do. From the attitudes to the facial expressions. Every good deed is our own heaven at works. 'World Peace', for instance, is the ideological heaven on Earth many of us feel is necessary. Thus, we are in charge of the heaven we place on Earth. Kindness and generousity is our version of inner heaven, our deeds, and our preperations for the real version. It's kind of odd to think that our idea of heaven has always been closer to us than we could have imagined.

But then, you ask, where is this afterlife? If heaven is within ourselves and it's all in preperations for the real heaven, then where is this real heaven? And this writer...can't answer it for you. It all leads back to the idea of one's own faith. If you can believe in a higher force or power which has provided you heaven, then perhaps its YOU who has the ability to decide where it is. From the depths of your imagination, only there will you find where your true paradise lies. And may you never travel alone, for everyone player in your body (persona) shall travel with you, or you to them. Every attitude, every emotion, every character will walk beside you, never to leave. And if you find your heaven to be in a world farther away than they are, do not ajust to the world you hold dear; your heaven will become theirs, and you will be pulled towards them, and their heaven. Although you fantasize about your perfect heaven, be assured that if heaven lives with you, it is already created. And only there will you and your characters live in bliss until your afterlife...and sometimes that means that you need to be the one who does the traveling...

Hugh didn't know what exactly had happened to him, but needless to say, he had mentally prepared for it. Flashes appeared before him, as he laid unconcious upon the floor. Each one was of what he treasured the most; his wife, his sons and his daughter all together. He wasn't exactly sure if this freakish accident was his own death, caused by electiricity. As far as he knew, he stuck the letter opener into the socket and was shocked. That's it. End of story. And perhaps...he was dead.

His mind began to flash to last summer, when he and his family took a two month trip through Europe. The five of them sat in a boxcar, heading to the eastern nations. His sat in the middle, his oldest son to his right and his wife to his left against the window. The younger children sat in front of him, holding a small glass of virgin Shirley Temples. As he and his wife wrapped their fingers around wine glasses. His wife suggest a toast and each one raised their glasses high.

_"To Europe!" Hugh exclaimed, tapping his glass against his family's. The family replied in unision the same remark and they laughed together, as if they if they were kings._

Hugh's eyes began to slowly open. He blinked, ever so slowly, expected to see his version of heaven; either his family around him in the hospital wing, or perhaps fluffy clouds and a bright light. But instead, what we woke up to see was the familiar surroundings of his set. The ceiling was white and prickly, as if one had spent hours of bordum trying to stick pencils into it. Strange; he had never noticed it before.

He groaned, not necessarily out of pain, but rather waking up from his unconcious state. His eyes began to blink more and more now, letting reality sink in. Reaching up, he began to gently wipe his eyes, also checking for any sign of blood. He pulled back. Nothing. It wasn't as if he felt any pain but perhaps it was just better to be safe than sorry. Ever so slowly, he looked over to his left, and found an unconcious Jennifer laying beside him.

She looked so peaceful, as if she were in a deep slumber. Her fingers still remained clenched to her large script, defining the term 'prying from one's dead hands'. It rested gently against her stomach. Her nose, slightly scrunched, perhaps due to her sleep.

Hugh reached over and tapped her arm gently, hoping for a responce. When that became uneffective, she shook her with a little more determination. Doing so, he gently whispered "Jennifer...Jennifer..Jen, wake up."

"Mmmm," She groaned, her eyes slightly twitching to the effect of being pulled out of a dream. Her eyes squinted, slowly opening for the world around her, and her body tossed a bit, which Hugh quickly took back his hand. Jennifer too, blinked several times, first looking up at the ceiling. She sighed, soaking in the room. "Ugh..."

"Are you alright?" He asked, concerned.

She ever so slowly turned her head to her right and looked at him. "Uh-huh...i'm okay. What about you?"

"Just peachy," He replied sarcastically, his thick accent sticking out as the key indicator. He placed his hands on the floor, assisting him as he pushed himself up. He then using one to lean on, and the other to gently rub the side of his head. Those temples can really be killer. He groaned more to himself, slightly yawning. He sat upon the floor, the memories still fresh in his mind. Hugh turned his head back to find Jennifer also assisting herself up for sitting. "Well...that was rather interesting."

"Yeah, what WAS that?" Jennifer spat amazed, her eyes widening at him.

"Bloody hell if I know," He shrugged, looking away from her to the room around him. The sun poured in gently from the corner of his eyes. It colored the white and crimson-orange walls the set designers had created. They did good work. Turning his head, he noticed his scenery with a little more clarity; the desk was as messy and unorganized as the set designers had created. The carpet, slightly dirty from the trails of small papers and sludge from the mud outside. The clear doors and walls were clear as crystal, able capture the images of everyone who may pass by. Even though everything was exactly in the right place, nothing seemed right. Hugh directed his eyes to the socket which he assumed gave him his taste of heaven. His eyes widened, mouth slightly dropping. He gulped silently. "Jennifer..."

"What is it?"

Hugh didn't look at her. He couldn't move his eyes. They were focused on the socket...the clean and unburnt socket. Hugh expected an electric shock to burn both him & Jenn, as well as permanantly damage the outlet. But indeed, it was covered with white paint, perhaps whiter than before. No damage had come to it or even close to it. The room; perfect, as if not damage had come to that either. No motion, no fire, no sense.

Jennifer's eyes drifted from him to the socket. And almost instantly, her facial expression changed, almost mimicing Hugh's. She noticed it too; the room, the outlet, the perfection. "Holy crap...that can't be...an electrical charge has to give off SOME damage onto the outlet...but..."

"...It's perfect," Hugh finished, like so many times in their script. But this time, it wasn't the script that had them fooled. It was everything around him that had unmasked his perception in more ways than one. It just didn't seem theortically possible for electricity to NOT burn or even leave a mark. And what about that earthquake before the explosion? Both of them had took that into account when they stared deeply into the wall with the two-pronged holes in it.

Jennifer lost grip of her sight and they traveled south, to the floor. There in lies another small flaw in the fight against reality; the letter opener. The golden letter opened laid silent, below the outlet. Pointing only to the outlet and nothing else, Jennifer began to examine it from afar. And what she saw definantly needed Hugh's attention. "Hugh...the letter opener..."

Hugh grazed downward to notice the perfectly shiny rod which laid only inches from his feet. He squinted his eyes, unaware that what we was actually seeing was true and not just a mind game. He then reached down slowly, taking the untensil between his fingers and raising it high for both to see. The sunlight casted a beam of golden sparkles from the letter opener and to the ceiling, reflecting it's shine. His reflection could easily be seen through it's mirror-like reflection. "It's not damaged either..." he muttered, looking deep into his reflection. He would've thought that some part-the tip, for one, would be black from the electrocution. Even the show was more realisitic to spray paint his knife black when they filmed _97 Seconds_, but this is just bizzare. "...What the hell is going on here?"

Before Jennifer could even try to explain her idea, the very flagile and breakable door swung open and inside walked a very frustrated Dr. Cuddy. Her dark curly hair flowed with ever every move, gently trailing down her flower blouse. Quite revealing, but no one should be shocked here. She wore her white coat, giving off the radiance of intelligence and authority. Her shoes clicked much softer on the dirty carpet and her arms swung with her movements, her fists slightly balled into a fist. "Wow. The last place I should find you and the first place I look. What a surprise."

Hugh smirked. "What? We told you we'd be here. You came alone? What, does no one want to do their job?"

Dr. Cuddy glared. "Excuse me? Everyone is out doing their job, House, which is what you should be doing. But instead, I find you on the floor doing God-Only-Knows with Dr. Cameron."

Jennifer threw her a look, turning her head towards Hugh. "Whoa, slow down. I don't remember reading this scene. Does Cuddy really say that?"

Hugh shrugged as a response to Jennifer, soon turning his attention towards Cuddy. "Which line is that? I don't recall reading that in pages."

Cuddy's eyes narrowed, growing impatient. "What line are you talking about, House?"

"With what you just sai-" It suddenly hit Hugh. The situation that 'Lisa' is putting on. His eyes became eased, gently laying back a little bit. He nodded, turning back to Jennifer. "-She's improv-ing again. I assume she wants us to go along with it."

"I can hear you," Doctor Cuddy replied, annoyed. "I'm not improv-ing...I didn't go to 12 years of medical school and 5 years of administration school just to improv on how my staff should do their job."

"Well, alright then," Hugh rolled his eyes. "You should just give us forewarning before you get into character."

"That way it's easier to play our parts," added Jennifer.

"Character?" Cuddy shot fire into the duo, folding her arms and tapping her foot. "Hmm. I'll give you a little forewarning; if you aren't down doing your clinic duty in the next ten minutes, i'll make sure you're doing clinic duty until your grandchildren are in medical school."

"Whoa," Hugh was blown away. A huge smile crept upon his face. "Very impressive, Lisa. That's your finest Doctor Cuddy impression i'm sure i've ever heard. We should have David write that in for us. I only wish everyone else could've heard it. That earthquake probably scared them off."

"Earthquake?" questioned Cuddy.

"Yeah, you know, with the shaky walls. So, where are they, anyway? Where's Robert? I've always known him to be much of a sissy in critical situations," Hugh grinned with much enthusiasm.

"Well, I found Doctor Chase in the clinic wearing YOUR name tag. And the last time I checked, he's nowhere near the personality or looks of Doctor House," she told him strongly.

"Doctor Chase? Why did...oh," Jennifer began to giggle. She turned to a quite confused Hugh, who appearently was missing out. "Robert...that's Chase's first name. She's pretending that we're talking about..."

Hugh began to laugh, his thick accent boistering, to which confused Cuddy. "Clever. Quite clever."

"What the hell are you two talking about? Did you switch my birth control again?"

Hugh's eyes widened. "Oh my heavens, no! That's preposterous! Why on earth would I do such a monsterous thing? That's clearly a House move, but me."

"What?" Cuddy narrowed her eyes, her mind running with confusion. This was so unlike House & Cameron to be acting this way. For some odd reason, she never really expected House to be within miles of the hospital, let alone his office when he knows he has clinic duty. "If you're trying to confuse me, you should know i'm not easily fooled by this."

"She's right," Jennifer admitted. "Let's just stop the scene for a second. Not that I mind this back and forth agression, but this is getting kind of confusing. Lisa, you've got to tell us where you are in the script, or you should just stop the improv from a moment. We're lost, and we have no idea what page you're on."

"Page?" The words seemed to spit right out of Cuddy's mouth with much frustation.

"Yeah, and scene too," Jennifer replied, showing the top of her script to Cuddy. "Maybe then we could really practice."

"Good idea," She gritted through her teeth. "Practice your jobs, before I find a way to fire the both of you. And I better see the two of you down in the clinic very shortly." Doctor Cuddy turned her back and began to walk out.

"Whoa, wait," Hugh called out, and Cuddy turned around to look at him. "Where are you going?"

"To do my job. I have a hospital to run, if you hadn't noticed," She attempted to turn back around, but felt the was one more issue to address. "Oh, and two more things; drop the British accent. It's really annoying, and I won't have my top diagnostician making a mockery of my hospital."

"Oh...kay..."

"Second; don't call me Lisa. Doctor Cuddy works just fine, thanks."

Both Hugh and Jennifer sat and watched Cuddy leave without so much as a goodbye. This was going far beyond acting, as far as they were concerned. Lisa was the caring and sweet member; always polite, loved to smile and greet others with warm fuzzies. But she was taking his whole 'I'm Doctor Cuddy' far too seriously. And besides, she was the one that expressed her love for the British accent most out of everyone. What the hell was up with everyone and everything?

Hugh turned to Jennifer, mystified by what had just occured. "What in bloody hell was that about?"

"Beats me," Jennifer shrugged, her frown slowly creeping up on it. Her eyes, though confused, looked to the door where Cuddy had stormed off. It was then her eyes caught something...something mysterous. Through the walls and glass door, she noticed several doctors and nurses in scrubs passing by, every few seconds or so. Each one walking while chatting or looking ahead, ignoring the room that both hugh and Jennifer were in. "Hey..."

Jennifer stood up, taking her script with her. She then proceeded to the glass door, looking out at the seemingly large amount of doctors and nurses passing by. "Hugh, come take a look at this."

"What is it?" He asked, slowly standing and brushing himself. Since only his alter-ego needed a cane, he proceeded to Jennifer, unassisted.

"Look...look at everyone," Jennifer's eyes followed each person, one by one, as if they were...a pet rat of sorts. Every doctor, every nurse, working together to complete a task that normally couldn't be done without further assistance. "Why is there so many doctors and nurses working today? David should've told them to shut off this part of the hospital. We need this area to film the episode!"

Hugh stopped diagnol to her backside, looking out at the variety of doctors. "He did."

"Well, appearently, it didn't help. Look at this mass of people! How are we supposed to work under these conditions if everyone is going to run into us while we film?"

"This doesn't make much sense," Hugh grazed down, pondering. "I distinctively remember David meeting with the head of the hospital. The man agreed to David's wishes, so technically, no one should be here. Well, other than a few extras...but, it looks as if..."

"...They're actually saving lives..." Jennifer finished, sighing. She then grumbled to herself, loud enough for Hugh to hear. "Urm...it's amazing that everyone's here BUT our cast."

"Shall we go and round them up?" Hugh asked, slightly smirking with British charm.

Jennifer nodded, pushing open the door wide enough for Hugh to slide after her. She didn't make it far; only about three feet from the glass door of Doctor House. Several doctors and nurses slid past them, expecting to be unseen by both parties. Several nurses even made an attempt to avoid Doctor House's presence. Perhpas due to some insult or cheeky joke that had some offended, while others cried in silence. "Excuse m-um-hey-excuse m-excuse..." She attempted to stop anyone who would listen to her, but no prevail.

Hugh stood behind her, his head moving with every person Jennifer was attempting to ask. He leaned behind her, softly asking "No help?"

Jennifer grumbled in frustration. Out of much tiredness for this so-called 'game', she quickly grabbed the closest doctor by his shoulders and forced him to stop. "Whoa, hold on a moment, will ya?"

The young doctor, perhaps no older than she, who also looked much like Doctor Kutner, turned to her with much confusion. "Is there anything I can do for you, Doctor Cameron?"

"Yeah, will you mind telling me..." She paused, her eyes perplexing at the man's last response."Wait, what did you just say?"

"I asked you if there was something I could do for you."

"Yeah, I got that, but you called me Dr. Cameron."

"Yeah..." the young doctor stretched his answer in reply, as well as his eyes widening, unaware of what to say. "...I can only assume, since I'm unaware of a twin sister."

Jennifer rolled her eyes, once looking back at Hugh. He mildly shrugged and she turned back to the doctor. She never let go of his shoulder. "Okay, this is just getting ridiculous. Tell me who put you up to it. Did David say you could be here? I bet he doesn't even know about this. Was it Lisa's doing? Did she have a part in this?"

"A part in what exactly?" asked the younger doctor.

"You know," She laughed, gesturing to the people who continued to pass them. "All of this. You guys are extras, there's no need for everyone, let alone crowding the hallways."

The young doctor took time out to look at those who passed him and those who didn't. When he was done, he looked back at Jennifer, bewildered. "I'm not sure i'm understanding. It's always this busy on a saturday."

"It shouldn't be busy when we shoot and it's not saturday, it's thursday."

"No, doctor Cameron...or twin sister of Doctor Cameron's...it's saturday."

Jennifer threw him a look. Not that typical confused look you give when you know someone's wrong. Jennifer knew something was wrong, but she couldn't pinpoint it. She couldn't figure it out. Why was everyone messing with them? Why HER? Everyone seemed to love her, mostly because of her character. And to almost treat her as if she were her character is just uncanny.

Hugh glanced down at his wrist to find his blue and silver watch was hooked onto place. Though digital, he embraced it. Even more so now, because it was high tech. He gave you the time from the mili-second, the month and...the day of the week. As he looked down, he became more and more uncomfortable from then on out. The back round consisted of Jennifer arguing with this young doctor, but time was ticking. Even more so on his watch. And right then and there, everything began to silently click in his mind. His mind raced, remembering only of what Jennifer and the group discussed earlier. Was it humanly possible? Was her speech a sign from God to expect such a catastrophic cataclysm? Everything fit well with this theory; her theory, the world's theory. And now, they were in far deeper trouble than they ever imagined.

"I'm telling you, today is thur-"

"-Doctor Cameron," Hugh replied, staring down at his watch.

"Oh my Gosh, are you going to pull the same crap on m-"

"-Look," He held up his watch, his eyes meeting with hers for several seconds.

She then proceeded to look down at his watch, not very amused. "Nice watch. I've seen it before, but it doesn't explai-"

"-Look CLOSER," He emphasized, slightly pushing it closer to her face.

Jennifer gripped onto his wrist, stablizing Hugh's slightly shaken arm. It's then she saw her worst of fears. In black writing in read **SAT**. It blinked several times, perhaps because she couldn't take her thumb off the time set button. Her mouth curled into an 'O', her eyes widened more than her mouth. This was unexplainable, ironically, after she had just gotten done defending the one true occurance here. She couldn't breathe or think. She could barely even hear the young doctor ask her another question.

"Is...everything alright?"

Jennifer, snapping out of it quickly, cocked her head to the doctor. Like a child, her face was frightened and determined. She raised her index finger and pointed it to Hugh, without even glancing at him. "What's his name?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," She snapped in a panicy tone. "Tell me, what's the name of the guy i'm pointing to?"

"Doctor...House?" He asked, much afraid of her wrath.

That was it. Her worst fear. The last thing she wanted to hear out of everything. She would've embraced the traditional 'I don't know'. But because everyone knew Doctor House in the series, (or seemed to know his reputation) that remark was least expected.

It wasn't noticed by anyone but Jennifer, but her heart began to beat loud drums into her ears. As she raced to have her questions answered, she didn't even notice Hugh dragging her back into Doctor House's office. And suddenly, away from the loud chats of doctors and nurses, a door opened in her mind. The clouds that seemed to cover her road of logic began to clear and an answer came to her. The only one, the only answer that seemed to fit was the one that seemed the less likely to occur.

She remained silent, focused in on her own little world. Hugh waved his hand in front of her face, calling out her name. Catatonic? Not necessarily. But spooked. Spooked at lack of control, the quickness, the irony. This reconfirmed her belief that we all all nothing more than grains of sand on a beach, the tide a force of power, able to carry us away to far off worlds. But _here?_ Why couldn't she land on _Dawson's Creek? _Why not, she did an episode for them long ago. At least she wasn't under the impression of being a specialist of immunology. It was simple then. It was simple even when she was just the actress. And only now does she realize it.

"Jennifer-"

"-Holy crap, it actually happened," She finally muttered from her lips.

"Yeah...I know."

"Do you?" She questioned, looking at him with sorrowful eyes. "I mean...oh my gosh...this is...unbelieveable...I...i'm speechless...without speech...nothing to say..."

"You and me both," he admitted, scratching the back of his head. "I...I thought you were only joking! Why didn't you tell me this could bloody happen?"

"What?!" She exclaimed mystified, turning her whole body towards him. "Are you serious? Hey, I was in the same boat as you! I didn't think time travel or alternate universes was ACTUALLY possible! It was something I read, thought it was a clever article and decided to share! That's it."

"Did they say it could happen?"

"Weren't you listening to me?"

"Appearently, not close enough."

"They said..." She searched for the right words. "...Yes, they said it was possible, under theory. But the odds were so tiny that most just considered it to be impossible."

"Well...what was it then? What got us here?"

"It had to have been the light socket," She guessed, attempting her shot at confidence. "I mean, it's in the script...maybe...oh gosh...maybe...the real Doctor House and Cameron did the same thing...at the same time."

"And...they're our personalities..." Hugh began to catch on, although inside, he was wondering why he did. "...So, we trade places, correct?"

"So it seems. Which means that while we're here, they're..." Jennifer lost her breath when the thought of where they are had jumped into her mind. Her heart began to race, her eyes widened for what seemed to be the 8th or 9th time today. "...UH-OH."

Hugh turned to her mimicing her expression. He knew it too. They stared at each other, hoping for answers, but neither gave in. The atmosphere hadn't sunk in yet, and for that brief moment, neither knew what to say or to do to make the fear and anxiety dwell. After a moment or two of endless and answerless silence, Hugh smacked his forehead, trailing his hand down his face. "I don't wanna think about it."

"We have two. The cast going to thi-"

"-Nuh-uh," He shook his head. "We cannot induce more worries onto ourselves by concerning ourselves with the other side. We've got far worse problems at the moment."

"Like what?"

Hugh smirked at her. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the cane that belonged to a one Doctor House, laying on a chair. Still smirking at her, he leans down, picks it up, and begins to lean on it. As if Doctor House would. He leans over her just as his alter-character would. Hugh then alters his voice to coinside with Doctor House. "What was it you had said earlier? Characters can't know they are who they really are? So they have to play the characters."

"Yeah...but we're not characters."

"No, but the rest of the world is. And according to the rest of the world, we are Doctor Gregory House and Doctor Allison Cameron. And THAT, my dear, is a character."

"But Hugh-"

"-Doctor House," He corrected.

"Doctor House, we aren't real doctors! We can't actually go on these little missions to save lifes. We're gonna kill people!"

"No," He replied sarcastically, very House-like. "We're going to kill their characters. The lives will be saved."

"But...we're not gonna know what we're doing."

Hugh rolled his eyes. "You play a doctor on TV, and you pretend to have gone through 9 years of medical school, PLAY IT OFF."

She paused for a heavy sigh. "This is going to be harder than anything i've ever done."

"Good. Then I won't be alone. I have to act like a repetitive jerk who hates everyone. That's hard for me, since, well, I love everyone. And jumping into it right away will do nothing to soothe my soul, mind you."

Hugh took a moment to look at his cane. He'd be walking with this in his hand for God knows how long. He then looked up and proceeded to the door. To which Jennifer called out to him.

"Whoa, wait. We're going right NOW?"

"Yes. Didn't you hear Cuddy? We have clinic duty in..." He looked at his watch. "...3 minutes." He then proceeded to walk out the door, a very frozen Jennifer unable to feel her legs. Her mind told her to go but her heart said no. She couldn't opperate, let alone treat for a cold. She wouldn't know what to subscribe. Why was Hugh so confident about it? Was it because no one really expected much out of his character? Or did he really just want to be his character for a day, a week, a month or even longer? So many questions for Jennifer, but she would later have time to sort through them all.

"Ugh...what the hell...I only live once...and so will they," She groaned, finally feeling the tingles in her feet. "Wait! I'm coming!" Jennifer noticed Hugh walking past the glass walls. She then ran out the glass door, into the crowded hallway and followed alongside him to the clinic.

Okay, that's it for now. I have work and college homework. Stupid mid-terms. Well, in any case, I ask 'Should I continue'? Totally your call. After all, don't-cha wanna know what happens when the cast actually get to meet the one and only Doctor House & Cameron? Coming up next chapter. Stay tuned!


	4. The Other Side Of You

Horray! I still have fans! I'm glad you guys decided to stick around for my amusement. Normally, crazy stories like this get only a few readers, mainly because the people who usually go so far out aren't that great at making the story come to life. And i'm glad you guys think that i'm not that type. This chapter should be one of my few interesting chapters. And I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. Now, time for a some the review feedback. In no particular order...

geminiginny, lilo, Bubbles1994, Lied, chloeeleanor, Phoenix Skyborne, Tarica and FryandLaurieFan: Once again, many thank yous for you and yours. You have no idea how much I appreciate your love and support. The other day, I was working this one Dart game at my work (where you throw darts at balloons) and this one kids threw a dart right at my forehead. I bled, and no one told me until I reached up and my hand was bloody. But luckily, I came home and read your reviews, and it made my night. So, thank you very much.

The Electric Co: Dude, love the pen name. I always go for that company when I play monopoly. Thanks for the love and I hope to hear from you soon.

Bligy: Wow...THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH! You have no idea how much it means to me. I've never been a hero to someone...sounds like a lot of pressure. . I would be honored to be part of the stalking list. Do I get a cool little badge and maybe a hat?

socrgrl14: LOL, House in a British accent? Hmm...I musstn't give anything away. I guess you'll have to read and find out.

TweedsterMD: lol, you got it! I'll get right to work!

Bewitched-by-you182: Yep, that's true. I'm still glad you're on the boat. Way to hang tough!

mercuryna88: I'm pleased that you've decided to join us on the S.S Fish Out Of Water. (Ironic, huh?) I hope to see you around.

Alrighty then, I'm guessing you guys want another chapter, eh? Maybe I should just stop right here, and leave the mystery unsolved. Eh? No? Well, alright then. Here ya go:

Chapter four:

Joseph Conrad was once noted, quoting "Who knows what true loneliness is -- not the conventional word but the naked terror? To the lonely themselves, it wears a mask. The most miserable outcasts hug some memory or some illusion."

Journalists and philosophical scholars spend many nights and days analyzing the text of which someone gives them. They look for their inner meaning; their inner message to some sort of psychological questioning. But here, in regards to this quote, there's not really much to analyze. It's all written out in black and white. Several keywords 'Lonliness', 'terror', 'mask', 'outcasts' and 'illusions' give us a fine defination...but it doesn't mean it can't rip it apart.

When we ask "Who knows what true loneliness is", it can be perceived as two idealogical responses; either, society is just idiotic in their attempts to cognitively understand what it means to be alone. Or, society is so alone that each of us share a different perspective on what it means to be lonely. We can easily rule out the first one, since the idea of 'society' and the 'media' is philosophically designed to represent a large group of people...or so you're taught to understand in Journalism 101. And when we answer our question (using the Socretic method) by saying that it isn't so much the word, but rather a truth so real and cosmic than it shakes the inner-soul down to it's naked bones. When we think about the possibilities of spending each waking day and each sleeping night, alone for the rest of our lives...it scares us.

But being frightened in our society is techincally a bad thing. We look upon it as being weak, and in the land of democracy, we are told to be proud and stand tall, no matter what may come. We refuse to be looked as such, so do the only thing we can to overshadow the fears; we hide under the mask of false pre-tenses. To society, we are as content as the next fellow. But to ourselves and perhaps God, we wear the mask that can only fool others, not ourselves. We know and acknowledge our fears, but as long as society believes our lies, we have played it off successfully.

Lastly, "The most miserable outcasts hug some memory of some illusion." In many ways, this can tie back to Narcissus; the man for whom fell in love with his image, unknowing that the man he loved was actually himself. Those who truly wear the mask, and by truly, I mean those who have worn the mask for some time, are supposibly outcasts. Though society can be easily fooled by anyone who wears the mask, the fact remains that society is aware of the mask and becomes aware of a person's nature if he or she continues to wear it for a long period of time. Yet, society says nothing, but watches each civilian closely. So, needless to say, it becomes obvious when a certain someone is clearly an outcast. Refuses to follow the rules of society or plays off the rules as if he or she had no trouble with them. But these outcasts are more aware of their outsidedness than most of society can comprehend. if it's an emotion detachment, then it felt beyond all doubt. And what they have is a lack of a society alltogether. Thus, they search for comfort in their own methods; their own world. Nothing else matters at that point, since their world is of them and only them. They live off two ideas; the memories of what was Or, the illusions of what could've been. The fantasies that never end and only begin live on in their minds. And each night, they dream of them, only hoping that their greatest fantasy is complete.

But their dreams are never seen, their voices never heard. For they are the outsiders, doomed to live in a world of dark clouds that seem to rain for hours on end. There is not much hope for these lost wanderers, only to dream and pray for a miracle. Maybe then, an illusion can become more than just an illusion. Perhaps then...could society accept the fantasies...they would have to if they were actually real.

Doctor Gregory House had spent much of life under the assumption that living on earth had no purpose, but to fulfill one's own personal needs. That religion is just a way to relax the mind, or frustrate it in some occasions. His dream, his wish; to be the most successful diagnostician the world has ever seen. Wouldn't ya know it, it had done it...and well, mind you. He knew everything (well, boasted that it knew everything) there was to know about medicine. Everything in biological terms could be explained somehow, but whether or not a patient lived was a deciding factor on his report card. He always seemed to get the answer right, either by some hint or clue someone says, or a possibility one of his colleagues bring up. Timing was an issue, yes, but in the end, he always knew. And he spent his life knowing that finding the answers to questions very few people know, is a personal need of his. But how was he going to explain this?

Doctor Allison Cameron was the first one to jump back into reality-well, their sense of reality. She blinked several time, ajusting to the overhead lights, which seemed to be much brighter than normal. She brushed it aside, assuming that her sphincter pupillae was causing her pupils to slightly dilate. Nothing she couldn't handle. Simple stuff, really. She sat up instantly, her hand rushing towards her forehead. Cameron rubbing it gently, slightly wincing at the small headache. She slightly groaned as her eyes drifted around the room. Her memories...we're lost, and her search for anything familiar was her only indication that nothing was wrong. Sure enough, everything was in tact- no frame tilted, no chair angled improperly, no desk out of place. Everything was as it should've been.

After her eye's wandered, she looked to her left, only to find a sleeping House beside her. Almost instantly did her heart race to all the possibilites of his condition. Cancer? Blot clot? Or is he just sleeping? She needed to know. Cameron flipped her legs around to kneeling position, looking over him like a parent over a child. Ever so gently did she place her two fingers of House's neck, in search of a pulse. Cameron's beautiful face, a few inches from his cheek and jawline. Her voice, calm and hushed. "House? House?"

House groaned, almost synonymous to Cameron's groan. Displeased, he was, from his somber dream. His nose crinched and so did his eyes. Until finally, he opened his eyes to the sight before him. He said nothing at first, but continued to watch Cameron's blank expression, until it was the right time to speak. "Why is it such a turn-on for you to be so close to a person's face?"

"I was checking your pulse," She explained.

"Ever hear of the Bubble rule?" He questioned intuitively. "The dead follow it too. It's called a coffin."

"And that's where you should be. You could've killed yourself today, House," Cameron warned, slightly moving away from him.

"But I didn't."

Cameron narrowed her eyes in disgust, noticing his calm nature towards death. Though an athiest, she knew it could've at least been taken serious. House began to sit up, her voice firm and positioned. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

"My leg, among other things...too long of a list and not enough sunlight to get 'em all down..." He told her, realizing where he was and what he was avoiding. "...Wait, I have time..."

Cameron sighed, shaking her head. His sarcasm never changes and never will. But sometimes, he has these incredible moments that he really shines. That's the House that sticks out in her mind. Sitting on the floor was getting her nowhere, or so she seemed to acknowledge from her perspective from there. As she begun to stand, she told him, almost motherly "I don't understand what keeps you going each day."

"My meds, mostly. They seem to cheer me up," He explained sarcastically, noticing closely her stance. Her arms were folded nicely, as if to clarify her position. Her foot gently tapped to the beat of her own drum. Slightly interested in her now attempt for dominating power, he continued. "Oh yes, and the hookers. Ya know, for a buck and a quarter, they'll listen to whatever you wanna tell 'em."

"Ugh."

"What are you doing here? Avoiding your clinic duty?"

"Avoiding YOUR clinic duty?" Cameron interjected quickly.

"In a manner of speaking, yes. Cuddy wants me in the clinic, so I came here instead."

Her lips slightly parted at his response. Unable to take in the coherence of his mind, she tried her best to follow him. "So...your logic being that you could spend your day saving lives...or eletricute yourself to the point of death?"

"Hmm...ya know, when you say it aloud, it does sound rather farfetched," He shrugged, his eyes drifting from the ceiling and back down to Cameron. "This should be a clear indicator to Cuddy on how much I hate clinic duty. And if she wants to keep her top diagnostician around..."

It was time for some tough love, Doctor Cameron knew. And if House wouldn't do what's right for him, someone would have to stand up for him. She reached out and took his arm in her grasp. "Come on, i'm taking you back to the clinic."

"But I don't wanna go!" He protested, much like a child is with the dentist.

"Let's go, before you get into too much trouble," She reasoned, slightly nodding to her own reasoning.

"Can I have my cane, at least?" House whined sourly. "Can't expect a cripple to tough it out. A cripple's life is tough enough."

"Uh...Where is it?"

"On the chair."

Cameron flipped around to face the chair, in hopes of discovering this lost cane. What she found was...the cane sitting quitely and horizontally upon the chair. It's red flames shooting out from the bottom was a clear cue to it's foundation. She easily bent down and hoisted it back up. "Here," She handed to him, which he instantly took in his hand. "Come on, before Cuddy finds out you're in her-"

The glass doors bursted open, causing both House & Cameron to quickly cock their heads. Fear? Probably...for Cameron, at least. House wasn't the only one not doing their clinic duty. Robert and Omar pushed open one of the doors, allowing Jesse to walk in without prevail. Sometimes it's best to walk in the middle spot. Each of them held their scripts firmly in their hands, as an actor should. Cameron was slightly alarmed when she noticed the trio walking towards her. House, as usual remained unresponsive. Cameron then became at ease, when she could easily hear laughter coming from both Jesse & Omar. While Robert did no such laughing, he crept up a smile that can only be obtained by certain victory.

"Yo Dawg, Robert just told me the funniest joke-" Omar began, but was cut off by a certain doctor who tended to lack a non-sarcastic sense of humor.

"-Do I bark?"

The trio stopped not four feet from the door. Still smiling, but somewhat confused, Omar asked him. "Wha?"

"Do I sniff at your crotch?"

"Is that a trick question?" Jesse asked in a suspicious tone.

"The correct answer being that I don't bark, or sniff at your crotch, or lick myself, so don't call me a dog."

Omar snorted slightly with his soft but manly laughter. "Yeah, yeah, okay. Mister perfectionalist."

It was at that moment that House noticed something slightly off with those three. Something that was a mystery and only he, their boss, would have the courage to ask. Leaning on his cane, and his eyes slightly narrowed, he questioned, "Don't you two have clinic duty?"

Silence. Akwardness' big brother. it had grown silent in the room for what can only be described as a few seconds or so. Omar turned to Jesse with a confused expression, to which, Jesse mirrored. Both looked at one another confused, until in unison, both actors began to laugh. Not your typical 'hee-hee, good one' laughter. But actual manly and boisterous laughter that you can only achieve in real emotion.

Somehow, Omar managed to choke out, "Yeah, if were actually doctors!" Jesse held out his hand high and then low, to which Omar instantly reciprocated, followed by a punching together of knuckles. A friendship unlike anything both House & Cameron have ever seen. While the trio played off their own humor non-chalantly, the _real_ doctors were not too keen of understanding...or perhaps their lack to. Cameron stood speechless. How could they joke around about this, she asked herself silently. How could Foreman say something like that? He's been the one that ALWAYS took what he did seriously. And Chase...well, since when the hell were he and Foreman buddy-buddies? She couldn't have been that blind...could she?

Her eyes drifted over to the man with the cane, who silently stood beside her. From her angle, she could almost make out a smirk that somehow crept upon his face. Was he...actually enjoying this?

The corner of House's eye caught a very mystified Cameron staring his way. Muttering to himself, as well as Cameron, he proudly remarked, "I think i'm rubbing off on them."

Cameron sighed out of lost hope. I guess the 'House' method was true in more than just medicine; sometimes the real symptoms don't flourish until you think you have the remedy. The little friendship between the two hadn't even crossed her mind. And now she was more confused than when she first originally walked in. Her feet to took the two steps towards House, reaching out and gently taking his arm. "Come on, we should get back to clinic duty...before Cuddy forces us to work doubletime."

"I thought you guys said you wanted us to meet you here," Jesse attempted to clarify. "I assume that's why we're all here."

Cameron raised a brow. "Why would...wait, did you just say 'you guys'?"

"Yeah..." Robert stretched, the first time anyone had truly noticed him until now. "There's two of you."

"Right. But why would we ask you to meet us here?"

"Oh Doctor Cameron!" House bellowed sarcastically. The trio slightly jumped back at the remark. "You need to learn a thing of two about the O-R-G-Y...or is it G-I-E...I tend to forget..."

Cameron placed her hands on her hips. "You'd want an orgy...with Foreman?"

"Why not? Everyone in this hospital seems to have the impression that i'm doing everyone. Wilson, Cuddy, Chase...You. Why not throw a little black power into the mix?"

Robert began to slightly giggle. "Ya know, that's kind of funny. David should really write that line into the script. It'd go well with the clinic duty scenes."

"You're really in the zone, Hugh," Jesse commented, his thumb and index finger slightly rubbing his chin. "I don't understand why you aren't writing the scripts for us."

House narrowed his eyes with his lips slightly at a slant. "Excuse me?"

"Hey, it's true," Robert agreed. "I mean, hell, you've nailed the accent down to a T-"

"-Not that, Wilson. What's with the alternate name?"

Robert raised a brow. "Your alternate name? We've always called yo-wait, did you just call me Wilson?"

"That's your name, isn't it?" He asked crudely. "Or, should I conform back to the college rethoric; Peachfuzz."

"Whoa!" Omar managed to bellow, turning his body towards Robert. "Now THAT'S a nick-name! You were called that in college, Dawg?"

"No!" Robert exclaimed. "I...I was never called Peachfuzz."

"Don't be ashamed, Dr. Wilson. I was known as Sunny Delight all throughout med school," Cameron attempted to soothe, most like appealing to his rational side.

Robert sighed, his eyes rolling faster than the Earth in one day. "Now YOU'RE going to call me Wilson too? Geez, Jennifer, can I have a little forewarning before we jump into character? I thought we promised this for ourselves."

Cameron parted her lips to speak, but was slightly silenced by what Robert had said to her. Perhaps she didn't hear correctly. Yes, that HAD have been it! Her face was lost. Her eyes were confused. Don't tell her that was some joke the three had cooked up together. "Did...you just call me 'Jennifer'?"

"Yeah, that's your name, isn't it?" Asked Robert, almost exactly in the same tone as House. The eyes of Omar & Jesse had began to shift over to Robert. And Robert's eyes drifted to Jesse & Omar, the three searching for answers within each other. Neither knew what to say, or even how to respond.

Jesse shook his head and blinked several times. This need reconciliation...and fast! "Okay, hold on for just a second. I think I can speak for everyone when I say that it seems like two of us are perceiving our characters, while the other three are just flat out lost. Let's just take it from the top of page eight. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Omar & Robert replied in unison. The three of them began to flip through their gigantic telephone book-like scripts, in search for page eight.

"Great. Hugh, you can start us off," Jesse suggested, as he began to flip through this script attentively.

Neither of them noticed the mystifyed expressions both House & Cameron displayed to them. Each one eached glances, much like what the trio had done prior. Both had no idea what was occuring, or why they were acting in this manner. House began to wonder. Were they seriously messing with them? And why was 'Wilson' in on it too? Wilson would never go for any form of play without him...or directed at him. They did stand close together, in a line of sorts. Just as his ducklings were trained to do.

The trio had silenced their script to the right page. Their eyes lightly skimming the text within their hands. While doing so, they waited patiently for House to speak. But this poor cripple had nothing to add. He was silent. Wandering, searching. When the trio finally looked up due to the lack of conversation, they noticed that House hadn't moved from when they first walked in.

House managed to pull out whatever was left of his cognitive mind, and asked "Why...are you calling me 'Hugh'?"

"That's your name, isn't it?" Jesse & Omar asked in unison, almost instantly after his remark. A question asked quite often today.

House opened his mouth to speak, but 'his' glass door opened. Though he couldn't see right away, due to the blockade which the trio had provided. But the trio did turn around, offering some light into the mystery person.

"Sorry i'm late," The feminant voice retored, sliping between Omar & Jesse. Sure enough, Lisa had appeared right on cue. With her script in hand, she was ready. "I had to piss like a racehorse. Have we started yet?" She glanced over at Jesse's script,

Cameron's facial expression dropped. Her boss stood before her. She was caught; House was caught. Cameron was never a bad girl! Even with the illegal activities House had beseeched her into, it was never idea! and Doctor Cuddy must never know that her presence outside of the clinic was anything to defy her wishes!

"Doctor Cuddy," Cameron took a step foward politely. "I...I know i'm...we're...supposed to be in the clinic right now. And we were on our way there, I assure you. But we were side-tracked by Chase, Foreman and Doctor Wilson."

Lisa threw a look at her, slightly giggling. On the set, praise and grief was welcomed. In reality, it was just strange. Lisa's giggles set Cameron off yet another road of confusion. "Why the hell would I care if you weren't doing your clinic duty? It's not like I run this damn hospital!"

"I...don't follow..." Cameron directed her attention to House, the man beside her for whom was smirking wider than ever.

To only Cameron, he muttered proudly "I'm rubbing off on her too. Maybe a little bit of me is stuck between the twins. Ode to joy."

Lisa narrowed her eyes with a smile. "Did you just make a comment regarding by breasts? About how nice they are?"

"If the shoe fits."

"Well, thank you," Lisa told him kindly, causing House to be slightly taken back. Did she just thank him for make a comment about her breasts? Great, he thought as Lisa began to speak; Cuddy's in on it too. "I have to say I really like the way my body image in presented in this top. And it's silk, so it's comfortable. It's really hard to kill two birds with one stone when it comes to fashion. So, i'm quite pleased with myself. But don't worry, Hugh, I won't tell the wife." Yep, she's in on it too.

House narrowed his eyes, almost astonished that he was asked, yet again. This game was not fun for Doctor House. He decided to ignore her, his own reasons intended, and he made his way to the glass door. Each of the fantastic four turned around just to see where exactly Hugh was going.

Robert was first to notice that there was something...odd about Hugh. For one, he was into the role of House far different than any other practice session. For one, what was with the cane? That was his first hint. It was almost as if he truly walked with it. He needed it as if he were a cripple. Was this for show, and he wanted others to notice? Was he and Jenn conspiring against them because their lack of respect for alternate universes? "Where are you going?"

House turned around, sliding on his heels. "You've convinced me that even clinic duty is less of a punishment than utter confusion."

"Why are you going there? We aren't shooting in the clinic until tomorrow," noted Omar.

House decided to ignore the last of what he had said, still deciding to answer the first question...not without sarcasm, of course. "That's where those guys in white coats go to help people. We pretended to make people feel better there." He pushed open the door, but was stopped by a question.

"What?" Lisa asked, placing her hands on her hips comfortable. "What the hell are you talking about, Hugh?"

House took a step back inside, leaning on his cane. He stared at Lisa with his own set of mystification. "Why do you insist on calling me Hugh? Is HOUSE too hard to emphasize?"

Lisa squinted slightly. "And I would call you House...because, what? You're gonna argue that you ARE Doctor House?"

House gently leaned off his cane and held up the handle to Lisa's face. Lisa moved her head back, out of fear of getting hit. A common reflex, no doubt. He then began to spin it, move it up and down in front of her-anything that would capture her attention on it. And when he noticed he had her attention, he pulled it back to lean on once more. "Satisfied? If not, I could do a dance act for you...although I'm most certain that would result in inapropriate conduct..."

"Okay, so you've got the cane. That doesn't make you Doctor House," Jesse rolled his eyes.

House's lips curled into an horizontal oral. He reached up, smacking his forehead with frustration. "Are all of you completely incapable of a rational thought?"

"So, you're saying that you're House?" Omar asked, folding his arms.

"No, i'm that attractive nurse down in radiation that everyone refers to as 'The Shaggin' Wagon'."

"Fine, let's see then," Omar took a step closer to him, his eyes meeting his. Omar knew better to stand slightly off to the side. House stared at him dominantly, while Omar held his ground. and within that second, Omar quickly bent down and snatched the cane from his hand. House hadn't mentally prepared for anyone to mess with his cane, let alone 'Foreman'. House wobbled, losing his balance. It didn't take long for everyone to notice his lost of balance, as he managed to fall right onto the floor. He grumbled in pain. He then rolled onto his back which did cause some of the pain to subside.

Cameron had remained mostly dormant in her spot beside his desk for that long period of time. But the second her eyes could process the fact that he had fallen, she jumped into realization. "House!" Her heels made it uncomfortable for running, but that was exactly what she did. No pain, no gain, right? She quickly fell to her knees in assistance.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Cameron cried out, turning his attention to Omar.

"He's faking it," Omar rolled his eyes, standing tall over both House and Cameron. "And speaking of, what's got you intwined in his little fantasy island?"

"I need to see the leg," Cameron informed as her hands began to roll up his pant leg. As she rolled it up, it became a surprise to her when she heard the loud gasps of the 'doctors' from behind her. They saw it. The leg; the REAL leg of Doctor House...deformed.

"What the hell is that?!" Gasped Lisa.

"So, he's faking it now, Foreman?" Cameron shot him a glare.

Omar remained unresponsive, staring down at the deformed leg for all to see. He couldn't speak. It was...bizzare. It wasn't so much the leg, but rather the realization of it. No make-up to blend in the scars, or curves the set it astray. No, they didn't have time to do that. This leg...the leg that sets most of the problems in the show of which they play...was real. The "That...can't be...real..."

"Get me up," House instructed Cameron firmly while she rolled back his pant leg.

Cameron nodded, wrapping an arm around his neck. She used the other arm wrapped gently around his waist, most likely for stability. But Cameron's illusionistic mind had other plans. It was almost as if she were in her lover's arms. Truly, madly, deeply for the first time in her life. Assisting him to his feet was a chore no doubt. Yet, on Cameron's grave would she swear that their hearts beat as one for the first time. They had each other, and needed each other...more now than ever. But to their ignorance, they would fail to realize. She loved helping him. It was when she needed him to be strong, and just maybe...the time he needed her.

Hoping onto his feet, House had dusted himself off nicely. With his cane in hand, he stood tall and proud, and with Cameron by his side. Who says one can't have it all? House's eyes focused on Omar with a look of true annoyance. He pointed the edge of his cane to Omar's face. "You picked a fight with the wrong cripple, Sambo."

Omar narrowed his eyes, revealing an annoyed facial expression. This was not the Hugh Laurie he had come to love. He was too much like House. If anything, he WAS House. And all he could think was what could've happened in a matter of twenty minutes that could change the charming Hugh into the sarcastic Greg.

Before Omar could further his quest for answers, a cry for help and despair broke the very akward atmosphere. "We need help here! Is there a doctor around?!"

House looked past Omar to a young man, no more than twenty-five. He laid amongst the hospital floor, holding a young woman that seemed to have stains of red fear. The man cried again, only this time, he was met by one of the older nurses. Nurses run in packs, House knew. When there's one, there more. Not three seconds after the first nurse's arrival, two more nurses arrived on the scene. He couldn't hear the conversation, but what he did see was something that didn't necessarily fit in. The man, hysterical, as expected. It was the lack of people present. It was saturday...it's always busy on a saturday.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed that Cameron had taken interest in the same case. She held her breath, waiting for her boss-well, bosses to make a move. Whatever had gotten the duo interested had also gotten the fantastic four interested. Instead of what normal doctors do and jump into action, they merely watched from the glass wall that was their profession.

Cameron noticed her fellow colleagues lack of zeal for saving a life. Out of instinct, she stayed put, as if to request to save. She turned to them, slightly pointing at the man in the window. "Shouldn't we help him?"

"Yeah, right," Lisa sighed sadly. "What could WE do?"

"How about save her life? She's obviously unconcious and bleeding! She could go into cardiac arrest or possibly suffer from ataxia if we stand here and do nothing."

House turned around to look at her. Though he did enjoy this lack of enthusiasm for the from his boss and colleagues, she was right. He knew that deep down within the pits of his soul, a speck of human decency remained as bright and shiny as ever. Although he would rarely to never tell Cameron she was right, he knew the only to express it was through his actions. Who knows, maybe he could get a thrill at discovering something new. House didn't even let the fantastic four retort their side of the story. He was already making his way out the glass door, Cameron quickly behind him.

"Hu-Ho-whatever you wanna be called!" Omar called out, but it was hopeless. Both neglected his voice, and immediately interjected between the nurses.

Meanwhile, the four remained silent. Like the pillars of stonehenge, neither moved, nor spoke, nor did anything to break the moment. For they were focused on what was occuring before them. Facial expressions are limited when everyone shares the same shocked & confused look. From the glass, they watched Cameron kneel down, check the woman's pulse and order the nurses for...something they couldn't hear. While House stood over her like a father figure. Her director, he only watched and every so often would make a comment to Cameron's possible diagnosis.

The wannabe Doctor Foreman couldn't take the sight before him. He couldn't take what he couldn't understand. "Okay...i'm just gonna come out and say it...what the hell are they doing?"

"They're...saving lives," Jesse commented, uneasily folding his arms. It did indeed creep him out. His girlfriend, the woman he thought he knew...was she really the undercover Cameron that's been hiding all these years? No, it just wasn't possible. He knew EVERYTHING about Jennifer...but nothing about Doctor Cameron.

"Yeah, I can see that. My question is HOW they're saving lives," Omar took a step closer to clarify the image. Sure enough, they we're saving lives in every way. Even Cameron was assisting one of the nurses in pulling a bed and placing the victim upon it. With one turn of the head, he looked back at his fellow actors. "I mean, damn! We're actors! We don't know a damn thing about medicine. Hell, half the crap we're reading doesn't even make sense to us! Right? So, how are they doing it?"

"An even better question would be why isn't anyone stopping them," Lisa replied, taking a step closer to Omar. "The whole hospital knows who we are. They should know that we honestly know very little about the practice of medicine. So why are they allowing Hugh & Jennifer to assist them?"

"I don't know. That's a good point," Omar looked at her. "Maybe they really need the hands and assuming that we may or may not know we're readi-"

"-Look! They're pushing the patient away," Jesse's voice cut in. Both actors quickly turned their heads to the sight before him. Cameron and the other three doctors were beginning to push the seemingly heavy bed down the hall and out of sight.

The fantastic four couldn't have that! They needed to know what this bizzare cataclysm was, and how it could be resolved. Instantly, the four took the nails from out of their feet and followed out the door. Omar, Lisa, Jesse and Robert in that order, single filed, almost breaking the glass door with their fast pace. Omar stopped right in the middle of the hallway. This chain reaction caused Lisa to bump him, Jesse who bumped Lisa and Robert who bumped Jesse. Neither complained or criticized at each other, but was instantly rejuvenated in their drama within the drama. The four stood in a line, watching the nurses, Cameron & House walk down the long hallway to the ICU. They could still hear the conversation from where they stood.

"Carasfixiation is not a symptom of actinobacteria. Her eyes would be yellow as opposed to...well, honestly i'm baffled," House turned to the younger man running along side the bed. "What color are her eyes?"

"Carasfixiation is dormant in younger females," Cameron jumped in, before the younger man could reply. "Ataxia could speed up the process if it's actinobacteria."

"Right, we should just assume that her cerebellum is taking a day off," He replied sarcastically. "Do an MRI and test her blood for hypotonia. If that comes back negative, then you can do your little actinobacteria test."

They turned the corner. Out of sight, but certainly not out of mind. For what remained with the fantastic four was more than just utter confusion. Moreover, it was utter fear. They stood with their eyes widened in a way never before. Every optometrist would be honored to have a patient that could keep their eyes as wide as they. Their mouths literally hanging just below the floor. A dentist's dream patient. What they had witnessed went against anything that could be cognitively comprehended. Come on, they were _actors_! Even Jennifer had a hard time waiting for the 'beep' on the thermometer, let alone pronunciate the word 'carasfixiation'. Hell, it took everyone at least three or so takes to get the word right on film. But neither knew what to say to make this seemingly complicated situation any less difficult. Each one kept their eyes focused on the other end where House & Cameron had vanished.

After a long moment of shocking silence, Jesse gathered up his voice to speak. "I...I don't know what to say...I don't know what to think, or even how to respond to that."

"I just want to know why," Lisa shook her head. "And how. Mostly how...how do they know...how did they...do everything..."

"This can't be a prank," Jesse concluded. "They couldn't have done this well of a job in under such a short amount of time. I could understand if we were here for more than a few days, but we had just gotten here YESTURDAY."

"There's no way that that man was Hugh," Lisa pointed to the end of the hallway, looking at Jesse who stood to her left. "I know Hugh. We know Hugh. And that man was rude, and pigish and...a whole mess of other things."

"Well, yeah. But then who is he?" Omar asked, looking past Robert.

Robert had remained silent for much of this confrontation. Perhaps it was because he didn't know what to say, or because he was more of a 'watch-and-see-what-goes-down' type of guy. Honestly, it was both parts; how could he respond to the non-Hugh-like remarks that were given? It had left him speechless. And he needed to watch in order to make sure that what he was thinking from the beginning was more than just a crazy theory. It's almost as if...he was real. And he knew it. Jennifer was right about everything...if only she could this for herself. "It's Doctor House."

What was that? Did Robert finally speak, and did he really say THAT? The three turned to him, expecting him to expand on what he had just remarked. Instead, he exchanged glances with everyone until he was finally put on the burner.

"What did you just say?" questioned Lisa.

"Come on, dawg, don't tell me I heard you correctly," Omar snorted with a smirk.

"You did."

"What? You honestly believe that the man we had just encountered was none other than THE Doctor Gregory House?" Jesse asked, almost not even believing that he had to ask such a frivolous question.

Robert sighed helplessly. Something within him told him that it didn't matter what he said or how he'd justify it. The fact that he brought it up automatically places him as an outcast. He placed his hands within the pockets of his white coat. His eyes drifted downward, as if to find a clear meaning behind his idea. But there was none to be found or had. He was alone, and the only person who would possibly agree was in a world of their own. When he finally looked up, he realized that it wasn't about convincing them, but knowing that he knew the answer. The only possibility to which explains everything looking back, and everything looking forward. "Look...you guys will most likely refute this...but I think I know what's going on..."

DUM-DUM-DUM...Believe it or not, I think I rushed this chapter. It was long, huh? Does your neck hurt yet? I'm sorry if it feels slightly rushed. I'm trying to give out one chapter a week, and I was way too busy this week to keep up with the pace. (BTW, my oral exam in German went very well, for anyone who cares. Thanks to those for the blessings. They came in handy) Stay tuned for the next chapter where Hugh & Jenn have clinic duty. I wonder how that'll go for them. And for the remaining four, who are under the pressure of keeping the truth for House & Cameron. Looks like they're going to be doing more character-acting, in order to keep the secret from spiling. But then again, I could just stop here...your choice.


	5. The Dynamic Duo & The Fantastic Four

Ahhh, readers! Good to see (well, hear) that you are alive and well. I hope everything is going well in your lives, and I wish for all the best in the near future. I'm also glad to see we have some new readers that hopped aboard. Cool beans. Let's get to the readers! In no order...

Sasusc: Welcome aboard! It's quite alright, I assure you that the hesitation is understandable. I had the same hesitation for writing this story than you had for reading it. My fears were that I couldn't develop the story and help it blossom into it's full potential. Because it truly is a unique and far-out story, I feared that I would end up like every other writer whose written something like this, and turn it into trash. I've read so many of these stories and most likely, they go wrong. But then again, I've always considered stories like these to be a test of a writer's ability. If I can pull this story off in the way unlike any other, than maybe I've got a talent that'll be of some use to me in the future. Anyway, i'm glad you're enjoying it and I hope to hear from you soon.

Priority & geminiginny: Lol, you're catching on.

whitelite & Katya S.: Hi, and welcome! Hope to see more of you soon.

chloeeleanor, Tarica, jules-m.d, TweedsterMD, hanily, Littledragonfly23, socrgrl14 & Bubbles1994: Hey buddies! I think i've grown addicted to your names. lol. It's good to see you guys again. I hope you enjoy chapter five.

Bewitched-by-you182: lol, yeah, sorry about that. Keep that thinking cap on and you'll understand just fine. For the most part, the confusion will subside slightly. Since, everyone is aware of the situation...well, not everyone...

Bligy: Oooh, a cape! I love capes. XD And spandex! Honestly, i'm 18 going on 8, and probably the only college kid who would wear a cape to their classes. Oooh, cool. I might take you up on that offer of yours. You know I wouldn't pull the rug out from under you NOW. We've started this, now it's time to complete it.

Astairefan: Hey again! Long time no chat. Good to hear from you again. It's okay, I understand. Hope to hear from you soon.

Okay, enough of that. Time for chapter five...enjoy...

Do you remember your elementary school years? Do you remember that one year your class did a play, or sang a song? How about the year you first learned what it meant to not color outside the lines? Or the year where when coloring outside the lines didn't matter? Those memories will last with us until the end of time. Though overtime they may fade away like written chalk after a rain storm. And only bits and pieces of our youth and innocence may remain in our tired minds. Yet, some how, we'll sit down on our cotton and silk rocking chair with our grandchildren in our lap, discussing our generation at their age. And somehow, we'll feel remorse.

We will feel remorse not because of the drama which we endured. But the fact that the simpler ages, the simpler drama, is long gone. The safety cord that is our life, our pain, our sorrow, and our memories has been pulled. Even as teenagers, we are blessed by the fountain of youth, only to waste it on what we are sure will kill us not so far into the future. There's a reason as to why eating _Doritos _and _Pepsi_ is looked down upon in society, especially with the growing rate of obesity in the world. But, there was a time when we could do that. There was a time when eating those junk foods was safe, because you wouldn't feel the effects of such a harsh lack of malnourhishment. After all, we could just run around, play with our childish friends, and burn it all off. Growing older, well into our younger adulthood, we could do such foolish things, such as ride a roller coaster fifteen times without throwing up. We could ride skateboards, fall off, get hurt, and stand up again, as if it had never occured. Traveling into your early twenties, you are blessed with more than any of the previous ages, for one specific reason; God or the government or whoever/whatever has considered you to be old enough and 'mature' enough to be an adult. So, if your decision is to binge drink with a couple of the guys from the Fraternity (or Sorority) then it is your choice to do so.

But alas, those times are gone, and shall never return. What you had before; the malnourishment, the strong stomach, the drinks, all are eventually taken away by the hand of age. Our safety cord is cut, and our only options now are to conform to what our parents told us would 'make us grow big and strong'. Now if we are to eat these salty snacks and drink pop from a can, our teeth will turn yellow until they rot. Our waist line will stretch ever further. The years of riding the roller coasters are gone as well. That strong stomach you once had has turned to mush that may or may not take up a load of creamed corn at a time. And as for that exessive drinking, well...let's just say that the outcome of such a harsh effect to the body may be felt quicker than imagined.

It's not our fault; our life comes with the best and worst of everything. Yet, we are remourseful because of our actions, as to how we reacted to the best and the worst of each situation. In short, we pity ourselves because we take or took advantage of the glory which we once had. We could've done more with our youth, but instead, we live in the moment rather than the year. A tear falls down our cheek, remebering our first crush, prom night, college, or even the wedding. We were safe then. And as we look down, we notice that the chalk is getting smaller, the roller coasters are getting shorter and the drinks are become much more intoxicating. Oh, will we ever have those times again? The times when there was no confusion, and we knew all we needed to? For Robert, Lisa, Jesse & Omar, this will be a question that reigns in their head. Life isn't a pretty scene when you can't read it off a script.

The hallway of the hospital had become a place for chatter and discussion, most of the appreciation going to the four 'wannabe doctors.' They hadn't moved from the spot in the middle of the orange tiled floor. Why would they? What they had just seen was one of the most bizarre things they had witnessed...in a while. Sure, they've seen some pretty odd things while on the set. Several people have made it their duty to ask the actors for help, confusing fantasy with reality. Yet, they are always kind and show them the way to a _real_ doctor. But never, and this writer stretches, _never_ were they confused to be professionals by their own team! Each player was no important than the other, since each contributed something to the show that made the show unique. The writers and the actors knew that. And they knew that it would become less stable in one or even two of them had departed.

They were gathering in somewhat of a circle now. Easier to hear, no? As Robert laid out his theory, which was nothing the other three hadn't heard before, they still managed to sway their bodies out of discomfort. Jesse kept his arms folded which expressed his very intense figure. As he stood directly across Robert in his circle, he could easily see a very concerned Lisa from the right corner of his eye. She laced her fingers together, resting them below her stomach. Try as she might, the fact that she tried to play off a 'content' attitude did very little for the group's assurance.

Out of Jesse's other eye, he caught a very doubtful Omar shaking his head at every suggestion and remark Robert had to make. Even his hand gestures of which he inacted while speaking did nothing to shake this cloud of unrealism. But it was true; what they were facing, though completely insane and choatic, was real.

"...And that does explain why Hugh & Jennifer have been acting odd lately..." Robert concluded, using his index finger to point at nothing in particular.

"You...DO realize that...this whole idea is odd..." Jesse trailed as he narrowed his eyes at him. It wasn't so much that the idea was odd, but the fact that such an idea could ever occur.

"Yeah, I am aware," Robert acknowledged while sighing. His eyes drifted down every so often, as if ashamed by his remarks. He didn't want to believe. He didn't want to think that Jennifer's theory of universal transfer was something to consider. For all he knew, he was happy with living in the fantasy of one world.

"But wait," Lisa interjected, unlacing her fingers and placing them on her hips. "So, assuming that your-well...Jennifer's theory is correct, and the real House & Cameron ARE with us, then that would imply Hugh & Jennifer are..."

Robert nodded, almost instantly after hearing Lisa speak of Hugh & Jenn's names. Sighing once more, looking down and then back up, he looked up helplessly "...Yeah, you've got it...boy, I hope they aren't as confused as we are. Hopefully, they've caught on to the 'Yes, i'm a real doctor' attitude our characters have probably reflected onto them."

"Ya know, i'm just gonna tell ya right now that I don't buy it for a second," It was Omar's turn to fold his arms in disbelief.

Lisa turned to him, her fingers resting gently on her hips. "Well, what else could it be?"

"What else?" Omar asked her, surprised. "How about 'Hey, i'm a jackass and I want to mess with my fellow colleagues?'"

"I think you're confusing Hugh with House," Jesse corrected.

"Jesse's right," Robert insisted, shoving his hands into his white coat pocket. "We know Hugh. Or, we at least know him well enough to tell when he's acting or when its real."

"Do we?" Omar was filled with Socretic Methods that day. Directly across from him was the clear glass doors of Doctor House's office. Omar could see his reflection, and there, he could see himself pointing to the office. "Let's not forget that we did believe it was him when we first walked into there."

While Robert & Jesse took time out to make an acknowledgement of where he was pointing, but Lisa remained focused on him. Though in truth, she knew as much as he did. But faith was the line that seperated the troops. "But what Robert's trying to say is that we DO know him, and we do know Jennifer. Now, think about them both for a moment-" She noticed Omar slightly rolling his eyes. Raising her hand, she snapped her fingers to receive his attention. "-Hey, listen to me, will you? Seriously, think about the two of them BEFORE this little incident. Before all of it, can you seriously see our sweet Jennifer pulling a prank like this? And not come out laughing?"

"Well...no."

"What about Hugh? You said it yourself in there, Hugh can be a perfectionist a times. Hell, he makes the smallest mistakes and he always asks to do the scene again. And you know that he has never been upset with you calling him Dawg. In fact, wasn't it he who said that it makes him feel 38 rather than 48?"

"Yeah...yeah he did."

Lisa took a pause. She could read his face like picturebook; her words, her examples, we getting to him.Though she stared, assuming that he needed no further guidence into what the others were thinking, Robert felt that covering all bases was the best solution. After all, all they had was each other. And they needed the confidence of each member.

"Does that sound guy we had had just encountered sound like Hugh to you...or Doctor House?" Robert asked, lowering his voice down an octave.

If there ever was an itch Omar couldn't scratch, it would at this very moment. His colleagues were right, even with his doubt he knew that they had made a very valid point. but it wasn't like him to lose an argument. It's hard enough to lose an argument with Doctor House, and that's an argument already written and planned. But this was different; Doctor House was real and he was there. Maybe this was an argument worth losing, as long as it brings them closer together.

"Ugh, alright," Omar conceeded. "I guess...I'll go along with this idea. Maybe...maybe it can...actually happen..."

Jesse sighed happily. "Good. I'm glad you've reconsidered. Now, then. We can start focusing on our biggest problem."

"Which is what?" Questioned the token black guy.

"How are we going to explain this to Shore?" Jesse's face became very uneasy, as did the others. They hadn't thought about that. Well, they hadn't had much time for thinking. Thank goodness someone brought this up before it could really get out of hand. Now they have a chance to contain it...but how.

The four of them exchanged glances and uneasy looks, much like they had done previously. Just like before, they searched for answers within each other, only to come up empty. A not-so-unusual silence bestowed its ackward nature over them. The back round scatter of PA calls for doctors and squeaky rolly beds floated into their minds like oxygen into a fire. Their atmosphere was real. No skit, no paper, no time for real preperation.

A moment or so had gone by with no response. That is, until Lisa decided to break the tension by stating the obvious. "Well, we can't just go into his office and TELL him. You know how he is; he'll want stats and graphs to prove our theory."

"If he gives us a chance to explain," Omar added as he tightened his grip around his arms. "I mean, like you said, we all know him. If something is just a little too bizzare for him, he'll bail before we can anything else."

"Yeah, but how often is that, really?" Robert examined logically. "He's pretty open-minded if we just approach him seriously. But Lisa's right; he won't give us two seconds unless we have the proof to back up our idea."

"Okay, so how do we go about doing it? I mean, we can't just say 'Hey David, Jennifer & Hugh have somehow turned into Doctor Cameron & House. And if you don't believe us, go check the hospital's clinic,'" Jesse replied as he dropped his arms and hands to his side comfortably.

"Well, no..." Robert trailed, leaving a tail of hushed silence behind him. Okay, so they were getting close to whatever it is they needed to do. No one needed to ask 'So, what do we use as proof?' That was a concept that was already put into questioning. It fell again, that ackward silence. And it could easily be seen that neither of the four enjoyed lurking into the unknowns without an idea of how to tame this situation. But Robert was the only one out of the four to take what he's learned in the fields of 'fake oncology', and apply it to what would make sense. While all the others thought of ways to actually keep David from leaving the room, Robert actually had a pretty decent. He announced to his group that he had an idea. They had said nothing, but instead, turned to look at him. He looked at them, half sure, half unsure. "...Let's do a DNA Test."

The silence that followed his remark was even more ackward than the previous. Not because it was their only idea, but the fact that the idea was so beyond anything they could do, it didn't seem possible.

"Don't tell me you're starting to turn into Wilson," Omar rolled his eyes, slightly laughing. "Do we look like doctors to you? We can't just go and do a DNA test!"

"I didn't mean US," Robert sighed hopelessly. "I meant _real_ doctors. Let's go and convince a few doctors or nurses to do a DNA test on House & Cameron. They've GOT to notice something isn't right with them. The fact that they aren't real doctors but saving lives should be a clear indication."

"I've got a question," Jesse slightly raised a finger to capture Robert's attention. "If we did this DNA test, what...what do you expect the results to say? I mean, do you honestly think that the results will read the names of people who don't even exist?"

"I don't know," The wannabe oncologist shrugged. "I guess we'll find that out when...if we do it. It-it makes sense to do it, logically. And it'll give us the proof we need to convince David."

"What if the DNA test reads Hugh & Jenn's names?" asked a slightly concerned Lisa. "How then will we prove to Shore that our theory is true?"

"Okay look, we shouldn't focus on the negativity," Robert reccomended to her, slightly biting his lip. "We all know there's so many things that could go wrong...ugh, that HAVE gone wrong...but if we focus on it, then we'll just end up backtracking."

Jesse nodded. "Very well. Then, how do you suppose we go about getting the evidence for such a DNA test?"

Robert gave him an uneasy look, much like the look Jesse gave when he considered his boss' possible reaction. Slightly shrugging his shoulder, he could only refer back to the bits and pieces he learned while on the set. "I guess our best option is a hair sample and cheek swab."

"What?!" Omar bellowed out of surprise.

"Well, do you want to take blood from them? I doubt House'll sit still," Robert replied sarcastically to an extent that even House would be proud of.

"But-but aren't there other methods of sampling DNA?" Omar asked as if he were pleading. "Maybe something a little less risky?"

"When does it ever work out for us, Omar?" Lisa, using the Socretic Method, replied matter-of-factly. "Seriously."

"What about taking DNA from the room?"

"Bad idea. We might pick up Hugh or Jenn's DNA by mistake. Then we're screwed."

"Yeah, it needs to come from the source," Jesse agreed, slightly figiding in his spot. Boy, anticipation and worry can sure make this Aussie shake. "But who's going to be the one to do it?"

A third pause. This was getting ridiculous. Luckily, this pause ended on a more unanimous decision. Robert quickly scanned the corner he found himself in; he caught Jesse's eyes wandering over to him. Only narrowing to reflect Jesse's proposal, he then quickly looked away only to find Omar had started to look over at him. He mirrored the facial expression he had just given Jesse. Great, the two were holding him down with their eyes. He didn't worry; Lisa would HAVE to stick by him. Out of instinct, he glanced to his left at Lisa...wha-what's this? He couldn't believe his eyes; His blue eyes were staring into Lisa's, who was already looking at him before he had a chance to beat her there. He was outnumbered, and in shock. "What? Me? Why-because I was the one who brought up the idea?"

"For starters," The thick accent of a one Jesse Spencer replied cooly. "But more importantly, you're in the best position to get the DNA."

Robert skipped a beat, before loudly asking "Why?!"

"I hate to beat a dead horse here, but let's go over what you just told us," Omar took a step closer, almost in the middle of the circle. "You said that Jennifer said that the characters can never know their reality is altered. So, we have to act out who they think we are. And according to them, i'm a token black neurologist, Jesse's the Cardiologist & Intensive Care wombat, Lisa's the bitchy boss, and YOU...are the oncologist. Who, also happens to be buddies with House."

Lisa took a step further to Robert. "Now with that in mind, who do you think is most likely to approach House without suspicion?"

"But...But," Robert whined, slouching with a frown. He turned to Lisa and showed her his distaste. "Can you just wear something extremely revealing and get the DNA that way?"

_Was that a serious question?_ she asked herself. Should she just ignore it? Yeah, yeah she should. Her eyes slightly narrowed at him. "It's settled them. Robbie's going to pull some hair out of House & Cameron's head-" He attempted to bellow out a whine or a sigh, but was interupted by Lisa. "-Because...Because he knows that he's the only guy that can get it done without detection, help us proof it to Shore and possibly bring home Jennifer & Hugh."

Though he whined, Robert did know within the deepest parts of his heart that his fellow colleagues were right. And though he may not ever want to admit that his role in the show was nothing more than 'simple' when it came to conflicts. Okay, so he had some failed marriages, so what? It wasn't an adiction, it didn't screw up his past, it didn't screw up his future, and it didn't bring controversy between him and House. Right there, he's had it better than House and his ducklings. Its ironic to think that he finally sees the light when it seems that the light is furthest away.

Robert sighed once again hopelessly. He was having no luck in this war. Well, if you can't beat them, join them, right? "Okay, okay...I'll...i'll do it. I'll get the samples from the both of 'em."

"Great!" Lisa cheered enthusiastically. She had reason to be pleased; she didn't have to jump into the dog pit with a porkchop around her neck.

"I'm glad you're enthused for me," Robert rolled his eyes. "So, where do I have to go to get this done? Should I follow how the script always taught us?"

"Well, definantly the script," The wannabe bitchy boss concluded. "If I remember correctly, House & Cameron should be in the OR with that guy and his fainted girlfriend or sister or whatever. Check there for them. And if they're not in there, check the patient's rooms."

"Especially the same room we always go to for filming, Dawg," Omar added. "It's closer than the OR and if one of them is there, you have a better chance of playing it cool."

"Thanks for the help, you guys," Robert nodded, finally moving from his spot and walking around Lisa and Omar. As he walked by, he mumbled loud enough for them to hear "Better pray I don't get a cane shoved up my ass."

Robert had only walked a mere eight steps or so before Jesse called out to him with joy. "Wait!"

Robert turned around slowly, mildly confused. "What is it?"

Jesse was on the verge of laughter. Holding it back with his right hand, much like a 3rd grader would, he trotted over to Robert. It left Lisa and Omar curious. They enchanged looks, a shrug and then trotted after him. Jesse stopped right in front of him, removing his hand. A huge grin had crept upon his face. A little...mischievous. A little demon child in that Aussie. "I just thought of something so completely funny."

"What's that?"

"Split up the samples; give the cheek swab to one and the hair sample to another."

"That's funny?"

"No, but I just thought of an interesting way on how you can obtain Cameron's DNA..."

GREGHOUSEALLISONCAMERONROBERTCHASELISACUDDYJAMESWILSONERICFORMANTHEIRREPLACEABLECAST

"I won't kill anyone...I won't kill anyone..." Jennifer had been repeating for the past minute or so. Under her breath and while her eyes closed, she began to pray that her actions won't impact anything to occur in the real world. She was like Cameron in so many ways, one being that her morals for life were quite conservative. Death was definantly not a power she wished to explore.

Hugh couldn't help but look over at her and back every so often. They began their walk to the clinic and it was then that she began to quietly reassuring herself. But it was getting a little annoying to him. A lack of confidence is definantly a 'no-no' for actors. They walked in unison through the crowded hallway when Hugh turned to her. He hushed her quietly in his accent "Oh, bloody hell, would you settle down please?"

"-Won't ki-" She stopped for him her rhythmic promise and turned to him confused. "What?"

"You keep telling yourself that you won't kill anyone. It's a little tedious," He told her quietly, his eyes glued to the clinic that was up ahead. "Look, I understand you don't _want_ to do this. Neither do I. But it's not as if we have many choices here."

"I know," She frowned. "But I just don't want to kill anyone. I'd regret it for the rest of my life."

Wannabe Doctor House sighed, looking over at her. It was hard to constantly keep her gaze and walk with an uncomfortable cane. The hallways began to slowly grow with more people. And Hugh felt the need to tuck his accent into the back of his throat. He explained in House's persona "Come on, Doctor Cameron, these people are just characters. They don't matter any more than the real doctors we portray. So what if they die? It's one less character a real person has to carry around with them."

Jennifer sighed with defeat. "I guess you're right. After all, we should really be worrying about ourselves first. I know it sounds selfish bu-"

"-But nothing," Hugh cut in in a very House-like manner. "We've got work to do now."

Hugh made his way over to the receptionist's desk. A familiar face was first seen; Brenda. It was Brenda at the desk with a phone to her ear. Her hands rummaged through some files that were scattered across the desk. It wasn't Tracy, the woman who plays Brenda. Tracy was funny; this woman looked flat out frightening. It wasn't so much the pink nurse's uniform, or the messy hair pulled into a bun. It was everything about her, the character in general that had the duo slightly spooked. This is as real as it gets. Hugh leaned over the counter, completely ignoring the fact that she was on the phone. "Hey!"

Brenda looked up to find what she could image as Doctor House staring down at her like a hawk to it's prey. She muttered into the phone "I'll call you back..." She quickly hung up the phone and looked up at him. "...Well, Doctor House...I didn't expect you to arrive to your clinic duty so...on time. Doctor Cuddy found you in your office, didn't she?"

"The day you go from wretched nurse to wretched doctor is the day you'll receive any gratification out of my pain. And I don't see that day coming for a long time," Hugh snapped crudely. A part of Hugh was slightly taken back by his response. Even Jennifer who stood off to the side of him was slightly held back. "Give me a file."

Brenda narrowed her eyes and released her most evil of glares. Within his soul, Hugh began to shake at the sight of her facial expression. But the real Doctor House wouldn't turn his tail and run, he had noted. In an attempt to gain composure, Hugh forced his body to remain as still as possible. Brenda leaned forward in her chair with a look that could kill. "I'm not giving you one file. You have clinic duty ALL DAY. You're getting an exam room., and someone will come in to give you the files."

"But WHYYYY?" Hugh whined as he stomped on his 'good' foot. He then looked over his left shoulder to a very silent Jennifer. "Doctor Cameron doesn't get an exam room."

"Actually, she does," Brenda corrected.

Jennifer took a step forward. "Me? What'd I do?"

"You have to finish off your hours. I believe you have about two hours left, Doctor Cameron."

"Oh, that's right," Jennifer nodded, pretending as if she knew everything there was to know. Maybe she could look a little ignorant without looking totally ignorant. "I do have two hours left in exam room 3."

"Uhh...no," Brenda looked at her skeptically. "It's exam room 5. Doctor House is in three."

"Oh, right," Cameron laughed nervously. "Pardon me...it's been a long day."

Brenda raised an eyebrow and glaced up at the _Mickey Mouse _clock directly above her. "It's only three O'clock."

"And you're just a nurse who can't pass the MCATS," Hugh mentioned coldly, almost hissing at her.

"House!" Jennifer glared. "Be nice."

Hugh turned to look at her. "Why? She's making me work in the clinic."

"No, Cuddy is making you work in the clinic," She rested her hands upon her hips. With one move, she slightly jerked her head to the left. "Come on. The sooner you go the sooner it's done."

Hugh turned his body in her direction, but decided to keep his glare on Brenda. It was the war of glares. Neither moved, neither blinked or made an attempt to gain any amount of dignity that could be obtained from looking away. Though in truth, Hugh never liked staring contests. He found them pointless. But Shore loves them, and if House is the spitting image of his boss, then-

"-House!" Jennifer tapped her foot impatiently.

He turned around nonchalantly. He saw her impatient expression, her hands hadn't moved from her hips. "Didn't know you needed me to hold your hand and walk you to the exam room." He hobbled over to her, and continued walking past her down the hall to the exam rooms. "Well, come on then. I'm sure that one boy with a lima bean up his nose is just _dying_ to recieve some special doctor to patient attention."

Jennifer took out the cement blocks from her feet and followed beside him. As they walked, both Hugh & Jennifer noticed a large amount of doctors making an attempt to avoid blocking their pathway. Kind of luxurious in a way. The hallways were clear, with the exception of the doctors that made a concious effort to avoid even the slightest touch of Hugh & Jennifer. A smile crept upon Hugh's face, a smile that Jennifer couldn't see. Hugh felt...accomplished. As if he was getting away with murder. In a way, he was. The real doctors weren't there, and it was the Dynamic Duo's job to keep any suspicion to a minimum.

They walked past exam rooms one and two before hugh abruptly stopped. Exam room three. Jennifer had halted quickly, nearly falling forward. She turned to him. "What's up?"

"I'm where I need to be," Hugh shrugged, pointing to the sign which read 'EXAM ROOM 3'. He then reached for the doorknob and opened the door. "Good luck."

"Yeah, you too," Jennifer nodded. He began to walk inside, but she called out to him one last time. "House!"

He turned back to her. "Yeah?"

Jennifer bit her lip hesitantly. "Don't...don't let House go to your head, okay?"

Hugh let a small smirk creep upon his lips. "Yeah, I got it. Same thing for you."

She nodded and continued down for about 10 steps until she could clearly read the sign in front of her. EXAM ROOM 5. This is where she would spend her two hours of fear and hesitation. This is where someone could be cured or killed with just a gesture or piece of advice. This was her weight upon the world. Her chance to truly made a difference had come, but had come in a bigger package than what she had anticipated.

Let's be realistic; Hugh had no idea what to expect when he walked into that room. Would the patient be sitting there, waiting for the one and only doctor House to treat him? Would the patient be absent, perhaps leaving after waiting for what could be imagined as forever. Hugh had been to the doctor's office many times before. A lot more, considering that he does have a few children under his belt. But for the first time in his life, he didn't know what to really expect out of playing a real doctor. Down to the bone, it had secretly frightened him.

"Doctor House, finally!"

Hugh turned around after shutting the door behind him. He noticed his patient; white male, in his early 20's, freshly shaven, and impatient. His patient sat upon the most uncomfortable of beds, kicking his feet back and forth for a sense of distraction. But he noticed something more important as well; the doctor's chair. Oh, how we loved chairs on wheels. He felt like a kid again. In fact, it was his idea to have nothing but rolling chairs inside his home, but unfortunately, his wife wouldn't allow it. Hugh hobbled over and sat down in the circular chair with wheels. "Well, I guess you know who I am. What's your problem?"

_'Wait, shouldn't I read this guy's chart?' _Hugh thought seriously. _'Nah. I wouldn't understand that bumfluff anyhow.'_

But for Hugh, what he failed to realize was that maybe looking at the patient's chart might've been easier than listening to him. The man scratched the back of his head hesitantly."I think that-well, like...I think...I don't know...like, my head...I think like, it hurts...I don't know...you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Hugh grumbled slightly louder than normal. "It means you're a complete idiot."

"What?"

"Only a truly moronic person feels pain but can't locate where it is," Hugh glared coldly, spining his cane with the tips of his fingers. "You couldn't indentify your pain if it was in the heart or in the head. And your doubt only incriminates you. Don't be a moron and walk into a doctor's office without the slightest idea of what's wrong."

"But like, I do know...it's like...my head...its ringing...and like, my spine...it's like, on fire!" The man told him in a panicked manner.

"Do you have children?" Hugh remembered his ringing headaches from all those late nights of baby cries and midnight feedings. It wasn't so much that Hugh had to do all that. His wife did. But he had to hear about it. And it was at that moment Hugh took out a second and thought about his family. He missed them; he wanted them, he loved them. And now, he was farther away than ever before.

"No."

"Do you have a girlfriend? Maybe a woman who bitches at you for your lack of common sense?" Hugh asked sarcastically.

"No, I just broke up with her. It's funny you say that...she was a bitch."

"Humph." Hugh rolled his eyes shamelessly.

"But I saw, like, another doctor before you. He said something like, I have unregular acid composure or something. And he said I should take Nexicodomedrium but like, I told him I was allergic to the Magaldrate. So, then, he told me that I should take, like Alpha-something-or-other. But I told him that I didn't want to risk the large intake of, like, Hydrotalcite, ya know? So, he told me to come here, and you'd know how to fix me. He said you knew something about a yellow pill that like, only the PPTH could write a perscription for. Maybe you could, like, write me a perscription for it, or something."

"Uh...huh...okay..." It wasn't like Hugh to not have something witty and sophisicated after a long ramble about anything. And it certainly wasn't like House to not jump back with a conclusion after a long ramble about...well, anything. Perhaps they were closer in mental understanding than Hugh would want to imagine. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a perscription pad laying om the counter next to him. He grabbed that and the pen beside it. "So...what were your symptoms again?"

"Uh...my head is ringing and...my spine feels like it's on fire."

"Uh-huh...got it..." Hugh, ever so coyly, began to write, as if it were necessary. "And a yellow pill, correct?"

"Right."

"Okay," Hugh nearly took an arm off as he attempted to rip off the note in one piece. He didn't realize that it was so delicate. My gosh, this patient looked at him as if he were crazy. To others, he was. "Here's, uh...here's your perscription. Just give it to the pharmacist. He'll...figure it out." Hugh handed the slightly crumbled note over to his 'patient', and the man instantly took it from Hugh's hand.

The man's eyes drift down towards the perscription note. He stared in silence, his eyebrows twiching, as if they were attempting to clarify the view. He paused. "Okay...you only wrote, like, my symptoms and 'yellow pill' underneath it. Shouldn't you, like, write the name of it, or something?"

"Yeah, sure..." the wannabe doctor sighs, taking back the note at hand. He didn't know what to write and this was a sure problem for him. So, he wrote the only thing that could come to mind, and handed it back to the patient.

"Uhhh...this time you wrote a scribble. Is this even a word? I don't think so." His eyes looked up at Hugh.

"Are you a doctor?"

"Well, no, bu-"

"-So, then you have no place to judge a doctor's handwriting," Hugh scoffed coldly, as if it was rude to question a doctor's qualifications. "We get small cases like yours all the time and you take it personal when we don't write in cursive for you."

"Yeah, but..." The man looked back down at the note that laid gently in his hand. "It really just looks like a random scribble...unless, like, the name is 'MMMMMM'...or something."

"The name isn't important. You want the drug and now you have it. You can leave now."

His patient grumbled, his fists forming into a ball out of frustration. He should've never come and he knew it. "I should've went to the Mayo Clinic. At least their food is better."

Hugh was in an attempt to stand, but in midair, he froze. His body hunched over the cane of which assisted him up. Something stuck out in his mind that couldn't be explained. He turned to his patient with the eyes of suspicion. "What did you just say?"

"Nothing." His patient looked down shamefully. It wasn't a crime to voice an opinion, he should know.

"No, really, what did you just say?" Hugh questioned, fixing his posture by standing upon his feet. A tower over his patient, this man felt no better the second time when asked.

"I'm sorry, okay? It's just a stupid that insult that I remar-"

"-I don't give a damn about the insult. what did you just say?"

"I said that, like I should've gone to the Mayo Clinic because their food's better."

That phrase...that phrase ran through Hugh's mind like a train in a tunnel. It went fast and it chilled down his spine. Granted, it wasn't so much the opinion behind it. Hugh didn't care much about the hospital anyhow. But it was the sentence...something about what the man said was so...familiar. As if...that one phrase was a major clue into why he's here and how he and Jennifer can get back home. A true scene that only House would enjoy. He turned and started walking out the door, pulling it with all his might. "Give the note to your pharmacist...and stop asking me questions."

"But wai-" The man fell silent when the door slammed shut. He then rolled his eyes and stood up, less satisfied than when he walked in.

Our British charmer, on the one hand, would consider himself a Blues Brother. Considering that he was 'On a message from God'. His feet paced themselves quickly, but to Hugh's displeasure, he found himself walking without the cane. It will slow him down, he knew. But to keep the 'I'm Doctor House' look from disbaring, it was in the best interest to use that cane. He corrected himself, and started using the cane. Sure enough, it slowed him down. But knowing where he wanted to go, it wasn't so much the speed. He passed the receptionist and Brenda.

She called out to him. "Doctor House! You can't leave!"

He ignored her. It wasn't like she was Doctor Cuddy, who would actually chase him down for his departure. His eyes focused on the glass office at hand, he noticed a very familiar colleague walking towards him. Jennifer used only the tips of her fingers to hold up a small cup that had been filled with bright liquid.

She looked flat out digusted. Her eyes and nose slightly scrunched as she walked. Definantly not her day. But her eyes set sail on her fellow actor. Assurance, she wasn't in this alone. Her eyes met his in passing, as she made her way to him. "Damn, I thought it was bad just giving a urine sample. I didn't think-"

"-Doctor Cameron, we need to talk," As she came towards him, he reached out with his free and and took her arm, spinning her to face his direction. He didn't stop, nor even slow down, and this caused Jennifer to both drop the small urine sample, as well as pick up her pace.

She looked up at him, noticing that he wasn't looking at her. For he was merely focused on the glass office. She didn't like how fast he was trying to move himself. They were literally speed walking through the crowded hallway with no intention of stopping until they reached their destination. Thus, she was concerned. "Why? Did something go horribly wrong?"

With his eyes still focused on the room, he whispered in his accent. "No. Quite the contrary. Something actually might've gone horribly right."

GREGHOUSEALLISONCAMERONROBERTCHASELISACUDDYJAMESWILSONERICFORMANTHEIRREPLACEABLECAST

It was different this time. He wasn't the dorky friend this time. He wasn't a teen in search of poetry from an inspiring English professor. Robert was now a doctor. Well, not so much the word itself but what he played. To House & Cameron at least, he was. To the rest of them, he was your TV doctor. There was a reason why he didn't go to medical school; he hated blood. Made him queezy and willing to faint at any moment. But the cast wanted him, and thus, decided that he would be the least likely doctor to be caught doing surgery. What a deal.

But as he stood outside the fainted woman's exam room, he began to contemplate his journey as an actor. He could see House caddy-corner to the patient with his feet up against the frontboard of the bed. House was leaning back in his chair comfortably, as if he had all the time in the world. It was very intimidating for our wannabe oncologist. He was no doctor, he knew that. And now, he was about to do very doctor-ish things.

Robert sighed as he let his head slightly droop downward for a moment. Contemplation was a wonderous thing._ Here goes nothing. _With his one hand, he turned the knob and walked inside confidently. The door slightly creeked at the turn, causing both the woman and the man to look up. Robert made eye contact with them from a distance, but House continued his conversation without so much as to look up at the one who walked in.

"-So then I told her i had herpres," House sighed, shaking his head. "I'll tell ya, two week anniversaries never last..." House noticed the two were not focusing in on him. What an insult! House turned and looked behind him, in search of the person of thing that had stolen the attention. Robert. Doctor Wilson. Both to the world. "...the saints go marching in."

The tensity of the room quickened, mostly by the facial expressions the couple nearly bolted from their side of the room. _Help us...please...mysterous man...Doctor House is...going to kill us..._The three of them stared at him, as if they were shooting darts for sign of life within Robert. The two begged within themselves for him to speak. Anything, everything, just please get him to speak. Can he hear them? Can't he see their plea written on their faces? Speak doctor, speak!

Robert took a step closer. "Hi, i'm Rober-i'm Rob-i'm...ugh...I'm-"

"-Ah, yes. He is a robber. Mothers lock up your daughters. He's known for his gathering of wives," House to the couple, then turning his attention to Robert. "What number is it now? 7th? 8th?"

"Are you a doctor too?" the sweet woman asked kindly.

"Yes, i'm doctor James Wilson."

"So, what do you do, doctor James Wilson?"

"Well, I'm-"

"-Don'tcha know?" House bellowed with sarcastic surprise. "Doctor Wilson is a well-renouned and popular Proctologist. Or, the simpler term for _your_ social class would be the 'Ass doctor'. And his routines consist of round-a-bout endeavors where he hops from patient to patient, giving exams and advice...hey..." House widened his eyes, cocking his head to Robert. "...why are you here unless..." He turned to his patient with fear and curiousity. "...You haven't been shoving inapropriate items up your ass, have you?"

It was funny. Doctor House was funny and Robert enjoyed it. But he wasn't allowed to. Doctor Wilson wouldn't enjoy it, so it was techincally a sin to even embrace the sarcasm with a smile. Thus, he hid the growing smile creeping from the inside and stood as tall as possible. He looked down at a very comfortable House. "I came here to talk to you."

"Oh?" House pulled back his feet and stood up. Turning towards Robert, he took one step closer to him, slightly closing the gap. "Big Boobs McCuddy is looking for me. So, she sends her lap dog, and by lap dog I mean 'your lap and her dogging it out', to come hunt me down."

"I'm not her lap dog." Robert corrected, rolling his eyes. If anything, he and Lisa were pretty equal in the real world.

"Yes, and the Pope's _not_ Catholic."

"I need to talk with you, but..." Robert squinted his eyes, pretending to notice something small, and perhaps important. "...You...have something in your hair."

"Yes, I believe they are called follicles."

"I doubt hair follicles are green," Robert took a couple steps forward in House's direction. "It's bothering me. I'll get it." Very out of character, Robert noted. There's no way the _real _Doctor Wilson would want to pick things out of his hair, but it was the best he could come up with under such short notice. He reached out with his one hand to the top of House's head, who merely stood by and watched him with suspicion.

House noticed how close the two had started to become, physically. And of course, he had to point it out. "Why is it such a turn-on for everyone to be close to me?"

"Are you guys...together?" The very hesitant man dared to question.

"Oh yes-" House turned his head back to the man, but stopped in mid-sentence when Robert plucked a few hairs from the top. He grumbled loudly, turning his head back to Robert.

"-Shut up," Robert glared. "I have a girlfriend." _Oops. _No he doesn't. Doctor Wilson is single. The wannabe oncologist could feel the three or four strands of hair hanging from his fingertips. He had done what he came to do.

He turned around and started to make his way back to the door, but a tender feminant voice called to him. "Wait. I thought you wanted to tell Doctor House something."

_Crap,_ he thought. Bad move. A Flaw. He turned back around to find House rubbing the top of his head with his one free hand. Much like a child does when they hit their head. He softly sighed, shrugging. "Nevermind. I guess it's not that important."

Robert sighed happily as he let the door close behind him. The strands in one hand, he then reached for the small tube in his coat pocket. He popped the top with his index finger and slid the strands into the tube. One down, one to go. _Doctor Cameron._ But where was she? Robert slid the tube back into his coat pocket but with no sense of where to walk. Perhaps walking for the hell of walking would do our fair actor some good. After all, he wasn't exactly sure what to make of it, and this gave him some time to think. Logically, he thought, if House was with the patient, then Cameron would have to be doing tests. That's it! She's probably on her way to House after running tests. Though Cameron wouldn't mind sitting for 4 hours waiting for results, but she hadn't visited the patient yet.

While these ideas ran through Robert's mind like a mouse on a wheel, his eyes caught a glimse of the sacred treasure walking in his direction. He snapped out of his downward spiral of possibilities and focused on Doctor Cameron, who made her way to him. His hands reached into his other coat pocket for a second tube. Inside, a cheek swab. He used his other thumb to pop open the top, taking out the swab with this thumb and index finger. He was ready. He was focused. Robert had a plan, and a good one, mind you. But was he confident?

When they were only feet apart, Cameron smiled kindly in his direction. "Hello, Doctor Wil-"

"-Cameron," Robert stopped directly in front of her, blocking her path. She halted quickly looking up at his desired look. His eyes trailed down hers, as if staring was an act of flirtation. "I love you."

Cameron's mouth slightly dropped at what she had just heard. Her heart raced with great speed and she could no longer feel the floor beneath her. What would House think of his best friend falling for one of his ducklings? Would he even care? She couldn't date someone while focused on another. She did it with Chase and swore to never do it again. Especially NOT with Wilson. He has to know. She just gathered up her voice when she noticed him quickly pull out the swab, and swab the inside of her cheek. Cameron's eyes widened as he pulled away to look at it.

As he stared for what seemed to be a few seconds or so, he looked up at her, smiling and shrugging. "Thanks." And with that, he continued on his merry-way, walking past her as he whistled.

The doctor of immunology stood in surprise and with slight annoyance. _It happened again. _Why does this always happen to her? A man professes his love and it never ends up to be true? It was frustrating and it was all on her. She was a sucker for romance and couldn't get out of the idea that the perfect man will sweep her off her feet. But no man will do that, because they can only woo the ones who aren't wooed yet. And she was already wooed by a man who wouldn't open the door for her, let alone sweep her off her feet. But it'll just have to do.

Now, alone and standing in the hallway, she bowed her head and mumbled, "Damnit." It was shame. Shame for even believing such a trick. Her heart swore at that moment that she would never fall for that again. It won't last, and her mind knew it too. But it gave her confidence. Just enough to take the anchors out of her shoes, and continue on to the patient's room, unbothered.

Yes, this is long. Consider it a Thanksgiving present. Hope you enjoyed it. Stay tuned to the next chapter, when Hugh & Jennifer discover something that may save them. And the DNA results are in! What's Shore going to say about all this? Coming up next in chapter six. 'Till then, ciao!


	6. Forget The Leader, Follow The Script

Well, anywho, I hope your holidays went well and as a little belated holiday gift, I present to you, our next chapter. Just a little forewarning, this chapter may be a little difficult to understand. It's also going to be the one that gets everyone to stop reading. But I tried to make this as realistic without being as odd as possible. If I never hear from you again, then that's okay, I get it. Keep in mind an actor in comparison to a character of a movie or story. It might be better to just go back and read the last chapter for description warm-ups. A lot of chapter five is mentioned. FYI...anyways, on with the story!

Chapter six

This writer has a not-so-secretive secret that needs to be explained. It's not so secretive because its more like common sense than anything else. But it becomes secretive when only a few members of society actually understand and can truly comprehend what means to be one with a language. It may not be noticed, or even thought with much consideration. Very few writers even take it upon themselves to consider this possibility. But in fact, much of our verbal language, the English language, comes from a variety of other languages. Language analysts have studied the act of communication and passive versus active voice for centuries, and only within the past couple centuries has someone actually come up with a solution to the English family tree. Their conclusion? The language is made up of three languages; Greek, Latin and German. What they failed to note, however, is the fact that other languages are spiced into it, giving us more than just an unique sense of identity. But rather, a culture and method by which to live.

The French culture gives us a word that we find to be quite charming. No, it isn't 'surrender'. Many of us are familiar with the phrase _Deja Vu. _This simple phrase is notorious for its explanations in karma and irony. When something we see seems familiar to what he have acknowledge in the past, we laugh and exclaim 'oh, it's deja vu!' The term _Deja vu_ is french, meaning 'already seen'. Or, something that feels as if we know from previous experiences. Even if we have never encountered such a situation, it still resembles the possibility that maybe, at one point, we will.

English speakers very rarely examine their own wordings and what they say when making a point. The truth is, no one is really permissible upon using Deja vu, and being technically correct with it. It may feel familiar, or look familiar, or may even stir up memories of a once endeavored journey. But to truly comprehend is to truly know and remember one situation from the other and reflect on what was and what wasn't. A brief memory or glance at the past in comparison to now isn't an effective idea of deja vu. To use it properly, one must remember all of what was, and now find themselves at the opposite of the similarities. For instance, if a mother remembers feeding her son, only to be a position where she is now feeding her daughter, the similarity of opposition grants her the right to fear the power of Deja vu.

And if Hugh & Jennifer remember a time when they stood with their friends, only to be in a position with doctors, then their sweat and tears come not of their pain. But from the power of opposition, and the realization that we are all pawns in the French terminology. It may be what Americans consider to be the most powerful of French perspectives...

...It wasn't intended nor was it decided, but Hugh took it upon himself to investigate every trail or coincidence his fingers could grasp. From movement to the slightest wiggle of a finger, Hugh concluded that he must do three things; one being that if his clue was correct, then he must form a plan in order to obtain information. Two, while doing this, he must continue his alias under pressure. Oh yes, and three, this order of thinking must be precise for both he and Jennifer. If they are to mess up...well, they haven't concluded that yet.

But one small flaw, however, musingly passed Hugh's conscious like a fly in New York City. He continued on his way, his one free hand grasped firmly to Jennifer's arm. It took her a moment after contact, but she was finally able to keep up her pace. She could feel his tensity through his grasp, and with each step made. The hallway was crowded, and both feared they would be lost in the transition. Every doctor and nurse walked as if they knew their routines like the back of each hand. It was intimidating, no doubt. So, she kept close to her _real_ colleague, much like a child does with its parents.

"What?" Jennifer asked curiously. "What'd you find?"

"I'm not sure yet," Hugh whispered, allowing his accent to gently flow past his lips. "But I have an idea."

Our wannabe Cameron took it upon herself to merely trust him, rather than interrogate him. It would be pointless, and who knows, she wondered, maybe he was actually onto something. Humph, she added. It wasn't as if she didn't trust him, but in this scenario, she counter-argued the idea that maybe he was just as frightened as she were. And maybe because of it, he'd look for answers in the glass walls if he had a hunch. Her eyes glanced downward towards Hugh's legs. The flaw. Jennifer whispered to him, not looking up from her glance. "Hugh...you're walking too much without using the cane. It's too suspicious. Slow down."

His eyes drifted over to her, noticing now that she was more focused on his little detail than running into someone. Truly, she was more concerned on not playing their cards right than looking like a fool. It was admirable to Hugh. Something he probably wouldn't have considered alone. She earned her other arm, and so, he let her arm escape his grasp while slowing his pace. Indeed, she was right, and thus began to use the cane with more frequency.

"Thanks," he quietly muttered to her.

She nodded respectfully, just as Cameron would to any order. Her eyes made notice of the glass office that belonged to Doctor House. She stopped walking, reaching out to open the door. She took a step, as if to enter, but was cut off by Hugh, who almost knocked her to the floor.

"Cripples first," Hugh told her both crudely and loudly, showing no remorse for his actions. "Women and children second."

Jennifer rolled her eyes and sighed. Unlike Hugh, but very much like House. Oh, why did David Shore have to be so rude? And why did his wife lack a masculine spine? All water under the bridge, she thought sadly, and proceeded inside. She let the door close behind her loudly, her ears lacking the sense of sound. For her eyes were focused on Hugh, and his actions.

He stood over 'his' desk, his fingers flipping through the pages of the very long script Jennifer somehow brought with her. She stood near the door, puzzled and mystified.

"What are you doing?" She questioned. "Where's this idea you said you had?"

"I'm going to show you," Hugh told her, not meeting or even acknowledging her confused stare. "But first, i'm going to tell you something."

It was then that he finally turned to her. His eyes met hers from a long distance and he could almost feel that she was on edge. The odds of him actually coming up with an idea or plan is far beyond whole numbers. But it wasn't as if she had much to offer.

"I think..." Hugh began, leaning on his cane. Though he himself wasn't a cripple, it did assist his posture in such a stressful time as this. He was serious, and his accent began to creep out. "...I think I know how we can get out of this."

"Out of what?" Hugh stared blankly at her, in response to her question. Her eyes began to widen. "Wha-here? You know how we can get home?"

"Yes-well-" He sighed, bitting his bottom lip and looking at random places around the room. "-I mean, I'm pretty sure...if my facts check out. My workings."

"Facts?" She walked closer to him, her face growing weary. "Come on, Hugh, I just dropped a pint of urine back there and I know it's gonna be me that has to clean it u-"

"-Yes, facts. Listen to me," He turned away for a brief moment, grabbing the large script and tucking it under his one arm. The blue eyes were sincere but serious. Almost as if to say 'I understand your concern, and I'm here. But don't worry too much'. Those eyes watched her fold her arms with much curiousity. She was listening and that's all he needed. His voice became lowered, though no one else was with them. Or rather, anyone they knew was within 30 feet of that office. Dramatic effect? Well, he is an actor. "I went into the exam room, and I had a male patient who's suffering from Gd only knows. I was...somewhat crude to him, as expected. Actually...I was more than crude. I was a compete ass to him, and he didn't deserve that kind of trea-"

"-Yeah, yeah, you played House, you were being an arse," Jennifer rolled her eyes impatiently, emphasizing every word that crossed her lips. "I get that. What's the significance?"

"Anyway, he studdered the entire I spoke with him. And that right there stuck out in my mind. It was as if I knew this man without actually knowing him. You follow me, sweetcheeks?" She nodded. "But then...he said something to me that, I knew, was familiar. Do you know what he said? He said 'I should've gone to the Mayo Clinic. At least their food is better.'"

Jennifer blinked with little or no expression. "Okay...Where's the part where i'm wow-ed?"

Hugh smirked, taking the script out from his arm. His eyes grazed downward while his fingers did most of the work. Jennifer watched him for a few seconds, before he stopped, and handed the script to her. "Here. Read the last line."

She hesitated, but took the script from him. She flipped the book around for proper reading. Her lips slightly parted and her eyes began to scroll down. "Um...let's see...'Patient number three...patient grumbles and balls hands into fists. Patient; I should've gone to the Mayo Clinic. At least their food is better'...whoa." Her eyes went from content to widened in a matter of half a second.

All high and mighty, Hugh leaned back against the desk, letting the cane drop to the ground. He folded his arms with triumph. Conceited? Hardly, he discovered something that was truely incredible.

But Jennifer couldn't praise. She couldn't even move. Her eyes were the only active parts of the body, and even then, they could only look at the script or at Hugh. All she could do was ask redundant questions. "So...what does this mean?"

"Jennifer," Hugh began. "Are you familiar with the term _Deja Vu?_"

"Yes," She replied slowly. "It's the idea of reenacting a situation twice."

Hugh smirked even more. "Are you feeling it now? Because bloody hell knows I am."

"How..." Her eyes drifted downward. "How did you know? How did you know what that man said was in the script?"

"Because," He replied enthusiastically, an index finger shooting up. Jennifer jumped back slightly at the suddern outburst but managed to regain composure. "I memorized much of the script. Didn't remember any of my lines from that scene. But for some reason, the words 'Mayo' and 'food' stuck out in my mind when I first read the line. Imagine that, right? Might've had much to do with hunger strike the producers neglectfully put upon us. I mean, my Gd, a little bread here or there...anyway...I couldn't forget the line, even if it wasn't mine. So, when that patient recited it to be VERBATIM..."

"...Wait a second," Jennifer looked down as she rose her hand to stop him from speaking while using the other arm to close the script. He looked at her with some mystification. She was concentrated on what she heard, but the fact that she wasn't jumping for joy was what left Hugh in suspicion. But she, although usually potrayed to be weak in the most personal of scenes, knew that even now, Occam's Razor would most likely play a part in their plan. It was clearly a lot to process, and thus, looked up for clarification. "...Did you just say you didn't know your lines?"

"I didn't. I still don't."

"Then what did you say?"

"Just...whatever came to mind," He shrugged nonchalantly.

Leaning up to appear much higher, she made it perfectly clear of her logic, via straight eye to eye contact. Though they were narrowed and her lips slightly parted, she returned the confusion given to her prior with a vital question. "If you did it straight out of improv, then how in the world did you come to a point where the guy could recite the script?"

Hugh blinked. "Sorry, sweetcheeks, I don't believe I follow."

Jennifer sighed and rolled her eyes. She then lowered herself back to her soles. Her eyes drifted around and her head turned every so often, as if to search for a rational and easily understandable explanation. "Okay...umm..." This was going to be harder than anything she's ever had to explain. Once again, she looked up at him with much seriousness. A look the real Cameron has given many times before. "...you just said that the patient recited a line from the script. Well, you just told me that you didn't say anything from the script. He followed the script and you didn't. So, logic would say that if two things are supposed to do something, and one falls out on doing that, then the possible outcome is changed. If you and I are supposed to clean a room, and you bail, then the quality of the clean room isn't the same as you and I together. Therefore, because you didn't say the lines in script, the patient shouldn't have said the line in the script after YOU didn't say a line in the script. He could've said anything else similiar to that phrase. Anything else would've been fine, but instead, for some reason, he says the exact same line. How is that possible?"

Confusing, huh? No need to fear. For those who couldn't catch that last remark, good 'ole Hugh will be sure to straighten out any bits of confusion. For he started to understand Jennifer's logic, and her perspective. She was right. He paused briefly, his eyes slightly widening as she spoke. With each passing word, he began to slowly understand. And with that, he folded his arms and stared at the glass walls behind her. "You're right...it makes sense. What you said makes sense, not the script. I did take it upon myself to do a little improvization, so naturally...because I drove the conversation out of the script...he should've broken free and said anything that wasn't on the script...hmm...this is fascinating...I...I don't know how to explain that, Jenn."

"Do you remember what you said to the guy?"

"No. I just remarked on a bitchy ex-girlfriend in a manner House would be quite pleased with."

"Well..." She looked down at the script with a motherly expression. Instantly, she began to flip the pages as if to be searching for something. "...we might as well find out what your lines _should've_ been." Hugh waited patiently as she licked her thumb and proceeded to flip quickly. Let's hope Hugh isn't bothere by another person's saliva. When she stopped, her eyes tracked up and down the page, lightly skimming. The silence wasn't what worried Hugh, but rather, the soft and gentle giggle that slid out of her mouth seconds later.

"What? What in bloody hell is so funny?"

"Some of these lines...they're really funny," She bit her lip in attempts to silence her giggling. "They...they kinda make you sound stupid, though. But then again, this is a Christmas special we're doing here."

"Like what?" He interjected, almost half as rude as House. Did he even listen to her after the word 'stupid'? "What does it say?"

She couldn't help but giggle once more, before shaking her head and rejecting anymore humorous antidotes. "Relax, these'll actually tickle your funny bone. Like this one...it's when the patient criticizes your handwriting. 'House: We get small cases like yours all the time and you take it personal when we don't write in cursive for you.'"

"Oh..." Hugh shrugged to himself. Maybe it wasn't all that ba-_wait, what?!! _Hugh froze without indication. That phrase...again...familiar...because it was his. He showed nothing to leave Jennifer suspicious. Instead, he could only mutter words that we're too soft and too quick for anyone to hear. "...Wha'wustha'?"

"Here's another one," the wannabe immunologist exclaimed zealously. "This was written after you asked about him having children. 'House: Do you have a girlfriend? Maybe a woman who bitches at you for your lack of common sense?'" She couldn't help but muster a laugh. A laugh that singled out itself. She didn't look at Hugh and his now worried expression. Her laughter kept the room at a steady octave.

But when she did finally acknowledge the only voice that seemed to echo the room, her smile faded quickly. "What's the matter, Hugh? Upset that you didn't get to say those very crude and, dare I say, House-like remarks to your patient?"

Jennifer laughed this time, which was, at first, accompanied with a charming smile given by Hugh. He knew what she didn't. And the longer she laughed, the more inclined he was to laugh with her. And so, he ended up doing so. He then scratched the back of his head and decided to just play it off as coy as he possibly could. "Well, i'm not really that upset about it considering that, well, I did say those lines."

"Yeah, too ba-" _Wait, did he say what I think I just heard? _No, she must've heard wrong. She kept her smile, through which she asked. "-What?"

"I said those lines, Jennifer," Hugh told her, his voice low and serious. If one could walk upon a voice, indeed, it would a cold and spooky walk.

"But I thought you said you didn't know your lines."

"I didn't. Those weren't the lines on the script."

"Uh," She raised an eyebrow as she glanced downward towards her little 'book of confirmation', and back up at him. "Yeah, they are. They're written right here." She held up the book and gestured to them.

"I know they are," His insisted while he slightly raised his voice. "It's the only way YOU know what I said to the patient. I didn't even remember what I said until you brought it up...verbatim. What I mean is that those aren't the lines David wrote for us to recite."

Jennifer rolled her eyes. "What? Oh come on, Hugh, the words are right here in black and white. Are you sure you didn't just memorize them and forget you remembered them?"

_What kind of question is that, he wondered? Doubt my sense of reality, will she? Humph!_ "What in bloody hell does that mean? Are you calling me a liar?"

"No," She told him sternly. "I'm not calling you anything. I just think that...I don't know. How 'bout this; let's go over everything one more time. This is a lot to process and I want to make sure we're both on the right page here."

"Fair enough," Hugh agreed like a gentlemen. Ah, the English charm has done wonders in a time like this. Though he has lost much in this epic battle, (or perhaps this writer is playing the drama card) he still can maintain much of a practical mind when critical thinking and analysis is called into play. His fingers reached down and told hold of the cane, positioning himself for anyone and everyone to see.

The blue eyes drifted with Jennifer, watching her move from her once frozen state to a state of pacing. The book was tucked nicely under her arm, just as Hugh had done previously. She was making him dizzy. Back and forth. Back and forth. "Alright..." She would ever so often take time to merely glance at him, but always resume to the concentration that was ever-so needed for her pacing. She would stare straight ahead until she would turn around to face Hugh, and walk back towards him. "...let's start from the beginning. We are actors. We are in a television show. David created the television show, which means that he created the characters. Actors memorize the script the creator writes, and then they recite it. Characters just say the lines. Still with me?"

"Of course," Hugh respectfully replied. "But my question is, are you still with me? You're pacing like you murdered a man. And...from a doctor's perspective, that hardly looks irreparable."

"I'm pacing because it helps me think," She sighed once more, failing to stop or even slow down. "One trait Cameron and I fail to share."

The wannabe Doctor House nodded. "So, we have this script which, appearently, is what? Their way of life?"

"Basically," She flipped around and proceeded to walk to his direction. "The-the script is their communication, but...our way of...ya know, tracking what they say. We know, but they don't. And the reason they don't know is because David didn't design these characters to acknowledge that they recite his lines for communication. He left it as realistic as any other television series. What kind of show would center its dialog around a group of doctors who know they don't exist and have to read from a book of lines? But...if we use improvization with them, it's almost...like we're diverting them to say something else. And they will say something that's completely off the radar. But...it'll usually be a response to something we said. Something THEY think was off the radar. Something off the script."

"Ah, I see," He nodded. "This will lead to a series of questioning. They'll break away from...the script...in order to find out...why it is we who have broken from the script."

"Exactly. But the problem is that we didn't break from the script. We aren't the characters, so we're not liable. But since we play these characters, we are these characters in their eyes. This explains why...why that magazine said not to reveal your true identity, but just play along with their beliefs."

"Yes, percisely. And after the confusion is dealt with, their next line is what? Out of the script?"

Jennifer nodded, stopping her tracks in front of him. And so it was, they spoke face to face. "Yeah, it has to be. It's all they know, and I have a feeling these characters can't improvise for long."

"But the confusion doesn't have to be dealt with," Hugh was slightly catching on to the logic of 'here and there'. For forty-eight years old, he still had a lot of brain power behind that charming smile. "Right? Look at it like this; if I undergo a quite sophisicated and pretentious conversation with a one Doctor Lisa Cuddy, and I were to say something that was COMPLETELY outrageous, do you know what might come of that?"

"Not really, no."

Hugh paused. Nothing better than keeping Jennifer on her toes. The room became filled with a hushed movment that caused nothing to be heard. His eyes drifted upward as if to search for answers beyond the ceiling. Jennifer, confused, glanced upward with him. She then pushed her lips together, giving her an akward look. She opened her mouth to speak, but Hugh beat her to it. "Do you hear that? It's silence. I can guarentee you that if I acted so far out of character, and it obligated Cuddy to join me, she would take the easier route. She'll say nothing until a certain amount of time passes, and then change the subject by reciting her lines."

"Very impressive," She conceeded knowledgably. "Alright, so we know that everyone here is a character. And, no matter what we say, they will always refer back to the script. So...how does tie in with getting back home again? Didn't you say that this might get us home?"

"It was you who said that travel _is_ possible, only when two of the same party reinact an exact activity at percisely the exact time. May I ask, who are we mistaken for?"

"Doctor House and..." Her eyes began to widen with much clarity. "...Doctor Cameron."

"And they are..."

"Characters," She began to smile. And right then, it was as if a door had opened up. A light at the end of a seemingly dark tunnel began to reveal its true beauty and security. The key to this everlasting madness was to be shown to our unsung heros here and now.

"AND you, my dear, we're fortunate enough to bring-"

"-The script," She cut in with some enthusiasm, trying her hardest not to excude too much confidence. "We can keep track of the real House and Cameron from here, because no matter what they say or how bizarre Omar, Jesse and them react, they will always refer back. So all we have to do-"

"-Is memorize the script," He concluded with his acadmeny-award winning smirk. "Act out the script percisely. If they're destined to recite the script no matter what, then all we have to do is...dare I say, play our parts."

"Hly crap, Hugh!" She smacked his arm playfully, letting her jaw drop to release her joyful voice. A light from within her mouth, her happy smile and teeth which are rarely shown on camera together, were now glittering brighter than ever. "You're like the Doctor House of parallel universes. I have to say, i'm really impressed. Didn't think you had that kind of logic in you."

Hugh smirked down at her. A true day for the one Hugh Laurie. He reached up and gently tapped his temple with one finger, as if to demonstrate the art of common sense. "Ya know, I still have a little bit left in this noggin. I must say, it does help to not believe in something, and try very hard to disprove it. But looked how far that worked in my favor."

Our wannabe immunologist couldn't help but giggle. A sigh of relief it was to know that she could actually trust Hugh in understanding what the rest of them have already shunned her for. Does she have to remind them that she didn't actually believe this at first? What was the use, she's already marked with this and now is obliged to live with it. "But..." Her soft and gentle smile began to fade once another simple realization began to fluster. "...What about the script in general? I mean, you told me that your improvization somehow found its way onto the script."

"Yes..." He gently reached up and stroked his chin with his thumb and index finger. "..Hmm...maybe...the script...has a mind of its own."

_Is he serious? _She narrowed her eyes. "What? A mind of it's own? That's the stupidest thing you've said so far."

He cleared his throat crudly, his fingers trailing down to the collar on his t-shirt, and tugged it melodramatically. "Hardly. I've said worse. Far worse to any man with a sensical mind, I assure you. But consider this; What if...the script knows when these characters are acting out? The script would...need to make sure that these characters refrain from making the same mistake."

"So, you're saying that the script is correcting itself?"

Hugh shrugged. "Everything corrected has been in past tense. That's because the script probably doesn't know until the that exact moment who follows through and who's diverted."

"In either case, the script...this book right here," She held it up for emphasis. "Would need to make sure that there are no errors. So, everything that wasn't said but should've been said is...written over...to compensate for the real actions. I understand that, but what about future events? Can we actually change the outcome of the script down the road?"

"You mean like changing the PPTH Christmas ball?" He asked and she instantly nodded. Ah, his frightened colleague. Why was it he for whom refused to share the confidence. "I doubt it. The script doesn't want to change what's already written. But it will if it has to, right? That's got to be why the characters keep reciting their original lines, even after we drift them off the scene. I think the future is safe...for now. As long as we do nothing to the last few scenes...hmmm...last few scenes..."

"What? Another idea to add to this wave of confusion?" She rolled her eyes. _Damnit, I just want to go home. _

Okay, she was right. And Hugh knew it. He was just as angry about all this as she was. Though he was calmer, mostly due to his broadway days, where he was trained to remain as calm as possible. A strategy to help in the real world, at best. Thus, again, he remained as calm as possible. Ever so carefully, he placed his one free hand atop Jennifer's shoulder. A true sign that they were stuck in this together. And though it was not pleasent or even worth their time, they knew as he bent down to stare eye-to-eye, they had to get through. "Not an idea, Jennifer. A plan. We don't have to memorize the entire script. Just the last part. I can hardly believe that the boys back home haven't already pushed the real doctors off the script at least a couple times. Memorizing the script now is just pointless. I say we simply read the script, scene by scene, and get a...a generalization. Then we can take it from there."

"So, you're saying we continue our alias as Doctor House & Cameron, cure patients, save lives in our _own style_ and then...come Christmas Ball time, we memorize every detail? That's a lot of time we're wasting! Time that could be used to get us the hell outta here!"

"Jennifer, let's be realistic, shall we?" His grip firmly placed on her shoulder. Not as if to cause pain, but to indicate seriousness. From the corner of his eye, he could see several passing doctors peeping in from the outter hallways, as if they looking for them. Cuddy has hidden dogs everywhere, and Hugh knew that their time was precious. "If we memorized every little detail from now 'till the end of the script, by the time we're done, it WILL be the end of the script. If hadn't noticed, we're the main stars here. Our time is limited, and besides, this might give us a chance to be a little more...comfortable with our surroundings...I know you don't like this, clearly, I do not find this in my fancy either. I know you miss Jesse as much as I miss my family. But regardless, this is our only way we can...survive this whole fiasco. We need to trust each other in order to make this work. You have my word, Jennifer, I promise that. Now can I have yours?"

Jennifer reached up and held her forehead with her hand. It was sickening to her. All of this was purely sickening. It twisted her stomach like Friday Night Mexican with the crew. But what choice did she have. Deep down, she knew Hugh was right...again. Boy, admiting defeat can be quite tiring. Perhaps its what tired out the French. (No offense) As her eyelids began to gently close thenselves from this outside world that seemed more like a prison than anything else. Her heart raced with much furry and agrivation. Who could blame her? When it once again became more silent than Jenn would rather hear, she removed her hand and opened her eyes, only to find Hugh looking down at her sincerely. She then bit her lip and allowed her eyes to roam around. Hugh accepted it and took it as decent fear. "Okay..." She muttered before gathering up her courage to face her fellow colleague. "...You have my word. After all, we're in this together. Might as well work like a team."

Hugh couldn't help but smile. Not a manly smirk that he usually gives when he's amused. A decent smile, a sign of hope. "You're right. It would be rather pointless to work alone. Speaking of work, I do believe we have some patients to treat."

"Ugh. Don't remind me," She grumbled, her face turning sour.

Our wannabe Doctor House couldn't help but laugh. "Relax, you won't kill anyone. In fact...you just might be able to help them."

"What do you mean?"

It was then that Hugh took his first vow of silence. Dramatic effect _again?! _She wasn't too sure of whether or not Hugh was truly full of himself. _Nah, he's just happy he figured it all out. Of course the star of the show figures it out. Oh brother, what have we gotten ourselves into? _While she search for answers in his eyes, his smile, his body language, anywhere that could hide his plan. It left her on her toes which is exactly what he wanted. The idea to dream and to plan and to change what has already been written was within their grasp. Hugh noticed what Jennifer failed to acknowledge. In his years, he became an actor, a friend, a husband and a father. Through each of these he discovered that no matter where you look, there's always something to be seen. Jennifer was young and he knew that she would have to learn this eventually. Maybe, just maybe, 'eventually' decided to come early.

GREGHOUSEALLISONCAMERONROBERTCHASELISACUDDYJAMESWILSONERICFORMANTHEIRREPLACEABLECAST

While the world of House had set its sails on our unsung heros, our reality did nothing to sooth the aching bones and tired minds of our fantastic four. Granted, they may not endure, or even merely experience the kind of painful and lifechanging impacts that Hugh and Jennifer may enounter. But, they were more tired than the duo put together. Who had the most to be tired about? None other than Robert, for whom did the only amount of work either of them had seemed to do. And yet again, he was called upon.

But this time, it was more of a mental obligation rather than a plea for his familiarity. He couldn't resist; it was almost as if he and Doctor Wilson shared the heart which did beat at the same drum. And though he did curse himself when he was alone or undergoing a task that left him weary, in the end, he would be proud of his good fortune and carry on.

Robert sat on the hospital bench, leaning forward with his arms over his knees. His fingers were laced together, as if he were praying. But for what? Oh yes, that's right, for Hugh and Jennifer. Very rarely would anyone ever see Robert pray when many had the oppertunity of watching. It was a small fear, prayer in public. Not a crime against humanity, but a self-inflicting crime which torchured him for much of his life. So what if he prayed where anyone could see? His colleagues-strike that, his _friends _we're in some Gd forsaken world, where the only sight of him is seen as Doctor Wilson, and only Doctor Wilson. They chat, nor look or smile at each other without knowing that the one person they see isn't who they want to see. And that calls for prayer.

Just as Robert began to recite yet another prayer taught to him as a child, a soft yet manly voice cooed with distance. "Hey."

Robert turned to his right, only to find Jesse stopping beside him. "'Sup, homie."

"I hope i'm not bothering you," Jesse softly insisted. "You look a little...urm...worn out."

Robert shook his head, then gesturing to the empty spot beside him. Jesse gave a small smile and sat down. "Eh, a little, I guess. I think i'm just more worried than anything else."

"You're worried for Jenn and Hugh, aren't you?" He asked soothingly. Boy, that Aussie could cool down a burning river with his tender voice. When he saw Robert nod, he couldn't help but sigh and nod with him. "I can inderstand that. I too am a little worried. For Jennifer, I know Hugh can take care of himself."

Robert's lips started to curve into a smile. "You don't think Jennifer is capable of handling her own?"

"No, not necessarily," He defended. "I trust Jenn, I do. I'm just..." His voice jolted out an ironic laugh, keeping him unable to explain for a brief moment. "...I'm just playing the worried boyfriend card." 

Robert chuckled alongside him while reaching out and gently patting his shoulder. "It's all good in the hood, mo fo. We've all played that card at one time or another. I remember I first played it when I brought my girlfriend to meet my parents."

"Oh yeah? What happened?"

The wannabe oncologist sighed. "Let's just say dirty charades and my alcoholic family don't mix well. For shizzle, bro."

Jesse couldn't help but muster a laugh. After all, it was what kept him from traveling down that worried road. "Robert, this has gone too far."

"What are you talking about?"

"You've GOT to stop trying to be black. It's driving us all crazy, Omar especially."

"Hey!" Robert threw him a look, just as he gently balled one of his fists and pounded his chest. "You don' know me. I grew up in the 'hood! I ate off food stamps and sold dope, for sho, man."

"Alright, first of all, I can't be seen with you if you're gonna act like this. I value my life," Jesse's face turned sour. "Second, you didn't grow up in 'the hood'. You grew up in the rich part of New Jersey. Hell, you played in _Dead Poets Society_. I know you're acting like this because your girlfriend wants you to get a tougher shell. But for crying out loud, Robert, you don't have to act like a ghetto gangster to prove a point. There's other ways-less DANGEROUS ways."

It had grown silent then, perhaps due to the crusifixion of Robert's wannabe persona. Granted, it wasn't Jesse's intention nor was it his desire to simply crush Robert. In fact, it left Jesse slightly confused as to why this would even be considered a downfall to him. Regardless, he watched Robert look away with a sigh and then turn back to him hopelessly. "Jesse, why do you have to do this to me?"

Jesse opened his mouth to speak, but was instantly cut off by the sound of an lab door creaking open. Both men turned to find a young, blonde woman in a white lab coat standing over them with a yellow envelope. Her eyes met both men's and smiled warmly upon them. "Well, well, i'm glad to see you're interested in the results."

"Excuse me?" questioned Jesse.

"DNA results," clarified Robert, turning his head back to him. "For House & Cameron. Ya know, that little joke you made me play on her."

"Oh, right," The wannabe wombat slowly eased his mind. Nodding and softly chuckling, he folded his arms and leaned back into the bench. "Yeah, how'd that go, by the way?"

"Uh-"

"-He got the data if that's your question," The blonde women cut in while literally dropping the large envelope into Robert's lap. Her head slightly nodded towards it while she continued. "And there's your results."

At first, Robert couldn't help but look down. There was so many things that would've made it worse, had it not have been an envelope. A brick, a fist, you can only imagine. His fingers wrapped around the edges of the envelope, giving himself a firm grip.

"So, what'd you find?" He could hear Jesse ask the doctor from his side, as if he were impatient.

The blonde doctor formed a smirk upon her face. A smirk that could only reveal nonverbal truths. Yes, she did know. Yes, she was nosy, or at least had that annoying trait. But what she lacked most was the ability to reveal. The ability to ruin what many would rather know on their own. And here, she knew she had no place to do so. With only her smirk and a soft wink, she kindly replied "I'm not a spoiler."

And with that, she flipped the hair that nicely neat in a ponytail, and headed back into the lab. The door shut behind her, causing Robert to slightly jump, and cause a series of blinking. Silence. Again with the silence. A clear indication to him that what he held within reach would answer all the confusion, and should be opened immediately.

"Come on, open it up," Jesse insisted, breaking into his unconscious.

Robert decided to say nothing, but rather nod in agreement. He then began to untwist the metal coil that held the lip of the envelope in place. As Jesse waited patiently much like a little boy before Christmas dawn, he watched Robert pull out the documents and begin to read them. "Ahem...let's see...do you want the Maury version, or the less dramatic version?"

"Maury?" Squinted Jesse. "That guy who does those DNA tests for teenage mothers? Sure, why not."

Robert smirked at him, flashing his tony-award winning expression. He then returned to the papers within his grasp, and proceeded to playfully examine them. "In the case of House & Cameron, David, you..." He paused, his face timid and frozen with joy. Jesse took this as a dramatic effect, one that Robert especially takes as a personal notion. But what he failed to see was the widening of eyes and the jaw slightly shivering with surprise. "...Oh my Gd..."

"What?"

"OH...MY...GD..." Was he reading it correctly? Yes...yes, he was. His eyes didn't alter the possibility that this could be true. But it was real. As real as the black and white on Hugh and Jennifer's script. His answer...their answer...Hugh and Jennifer's answer...House & Cameron's answer...the world's answer...left Robert spooked. He reread over and over again, as if reading a 45th time would change the truth.

"Let me see-" Jesse reached out and quickly snatched the results from Robert's now numb and less assured fingers. It slightly too Jesse back, considering that although Robert wasn't the mmasculine of men, he wouldn't never let anyone snatch something from him. And now, Jesse stared at him as he stared down at his fingers. The truth. 'No time for him,' Jesse's mind instructed. 'Read'. His eyes looked down at the slightly crumpled document that was nearly torn from the snatch. "...What? Is it really that ba-" This document was more of a killer than anything; it left both of them silent and shocked. Jesse's eyes widened, quickly realizing what the results actually meant to him and his relationship with Jennifer. Indeed, this was quite bad. "-whoa."

"Yeah," That was all Robert could muster from his dried lips. But then again, perhaps that enough. Jesse saw it, he knew the seriousness of this. The betrayal of everything they stood for. Every ethic or every moral being which lived in their blood like a hair to an animal was now at liberty to be changed. He couldn't process this sitting down, and thus, he stood up.

"Do...Are they sure?" Jesse had an even harder time, considering that Jennifer was someone he truly cared about. Someone he could trust with anything and everything. And as he rose to his feet, he began to consider a life without it. A life as alone as he stood, even with Robert beside him. Neither had the right mind to react properly.

This was first time in perhaps what may seem to be a long time that both Jesse & Robert actually found something uniquely in common. They both looked at each other with the exact same expression. Confusion, surprise, fear. And it was there that the entire hospital had seem to dissipate. Every person, every voice and every harmful display of emotion had literally been painted over with a white coat of silence. Jesse opened his mouth, as if to speak, but failed to find his voice. In a time like this, how could he? He didn't know whether he was angry or upset. But both emotions were justified, and both of them knew that this was going to change everything they worked so hard to achieve.

"Go get Omar, and i'll get Lisa," Robert told Jesse, his eyes jumping from the results at hand to Jesse's eyes. "We need to talk to Shore NOW. He's not gonna believe this..."

(Now I KNOW this had to have been rushed. I feel guilty, since I hate rushing works of writing. But I fell behind, and that's not your fault. So sorry. Okay, yeah, I totally lied in the last chapter. I said you'd find out the results. Well, again with the rushing. I decided to cut it short. I'm starting to consider this chapter to be my 'test chapter'. If you really love my story, even when its mostly dialog and confusing, and you really want to know the results, then you'll come back to me. XD And i'll be here, most likely eating a Cheetos and drinking Cola. I greatly appreciate each and every one of you for your time and interest. I'll try next time to bring you a chapter in a speedy amount of time. Promise. XD

Next chapter, on a whole new Fish Out Of Water, the Fantastic Four have some news to bring David. How will he take it, and what plan does he have to keep stability? And later, Hugh and Jenn apply their knew discovery in hopes of what they know might actually be true. Will it work, or have disastrous effects? Stay tuned.)


End file.
